


two young cats (feeling under attack)

by panaili



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Animal Attack, Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Captivity, Death Threats, F/M, Graphic Description of Death (OC), Hostage Situations, Hunk (Voltron)-centric, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Pansexual Hunk (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt-centric, Questioning Pidge | Katie Holt, Sexual Slurs (in flashback), Slow Burn, Survival Horror, Swearing, Torture, Wilderness Survival, inspired by Animorphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 06:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 53,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14326170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaili/pseuds/panaili
Summary: After getting captured by bounty hunters during a routine shopping trip, Hunk and Pidge manage to find a pod and escape, only to be shot down by their captors. Alone and without signal, they crash land on a strange alien planet that seems hellbent on killing them -- if the bounty hunters don't catch them first.[Written for the2018 Pidge Big Bang]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, I get to post my entry for the [2018 Pidge Big Bang](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Pidge_Big_Bang)! I've been writing this since November and I am so freaking excited to share it with everyone, since I've been dying to write a Hidge action/adventure fic since I got into the fandom. :D This story also deals with issues of asexuality/questioning, as I've wanted to write about asexual!Pidge for a long time as well. While some of her experiences might not be universal, I pull a number of Pidge's reflections on sexuality from my own experience as an asexual person, so I hope that it rings true.
> 
> This story is set in the time period between Season 4 and Season 5. The title is pulled from the song "[Remember That Night](https://genius.com/Grouplove-remember-that-night-lyrics)" by GroupLove, which I highly recommend. [[Video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZKKpLox1BN0)]
> 
> Many thanks to Eli B., who drew the fantastic art for this fanfic and also worked their butt off on this entire project. Here is a link to their [Tumblr](http://eliaesthetics.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/eliaesthetics) if you want to check out more of their fantastic artwork!
> 
> As always, I need to thank the lovely MaliciousWays for being an amazing beta. She made this story like 10x as good as it would have been without her help, no lie, because she is majestic rainbow-infused space unicorn.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the story!

 

 

 

 

 

 _Katie Holt had no friends._

_This was a fact of life at Monroe Elementary, as commonly accepted as avoiding the hot lunch line on Sloppy Joe day. Not everyone knew about the facts. When new students arrived at Monroe, the teachers taught them where their classroom was located, how to open their lockers, and when they had lunch._

_Their fellow students taught them what spots on the playground were off-limits to anyone younger than ten, what foods were safe in the cafeteria, and that Katie Holt was a freak._

 

* * *

 

 

Pidge hated surprises. 

They were unavoidable, of course. Her entire life had been nothing but one surprise after another since the terrible announcement of the Kerberos crash. But she was a programmer, a planner, a being driven by patterns and logic. In an ideal world, she’d have enough information to be able to predict everything from a solar system’s demise down to the next meme to overtake the Internet. Surprises, as far as Pidge was concerned, were nothing more than the universe’s way of reminding her how much information was still out of reach.

(She had to begrudgingly admit that sometimes surprises could be useful, after the surprise discovery of the Blue Lion eventually led to finding her missing brother, but that didn’t mean she had to _like_ them.)

Pidge stared at her computer, lost in thought as her tracker ran through a diagnostic script, and decided that human surprises were the worst of them all. 

Her morning had been going perfectly normally until Matt had to ruin everything with one offhand statement.

The Castle had entered the Jerrnasta system overnight, intending to make a stop in one of their common ports to resupply. The planet of Mata wasn’t as technologically savvy as Olkarion, but it was more centrally located and covered in large swathes of arable land, making it ideal for mass food production. Likely for that reason, it was home to one of the largest interplanetary markets in the universe. Hunk had been raving with excitement for weeks about the opportunity to examine the promised plethora of produce.

Shiro, Allura, and Matt had drawn the diplomatic short straw for this trip, representing Voltron, the Altean Kingdom, and the Rebel Alliance in a single entourage. Even Keith and Kolivan were in attendance representing the Blade of Marmora. (Prince Lotor, their dubious prisoner in the wake of the Battle of Naxzela, was still locked away in the Castle and watched over by Coran.) While a great honor, the endless diplomatic meetings didn’t leave much time for them to explore the Grand Mata Market, leaving Matt frustrated and complaining to Pidge as she finished up some last minute coding on a few projects. 

“Any chance you’d be willing to pretend to be me?” Matt suggested, quirking his lips just enough to show he was joking. “I could get you stilts or something so you can fit into my clothes.” 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. With mock consideration, she mused, “Hm, would I rather hang out with my friends at a space market or go to a million boring meetings about resources and supply chains? That _is_ a tough choice.” 

Matt made a face, rolling over onto his back on the bed and staring at the ceiling with a sigh. He’d opted to join her in her room as she worked, picking his way across the clutter with only a couple half-assed complaints about her messiness. 

“Ugh, fine,” he muttered. “At least _some_ of the meetings might be interesting. Could you see if you can find some stuff to make spaghetti bolognese? Y’know, like how Mom used to make? With Hunk’s crush on you, I bet he’d be willing to figure it out even if he’s never made it before.” 

“Sure, I’ll try,” Pidge began, only half paying attention as she inserted a new line of code into a trial program.

It was only after she stopped typing that she registered the entirety of Matt’s sentence. She looked up at him incredulously, the world coming to a sharp halt.

Not seeing her reaction, Matt continued on, “Man, I hope you guys can find some spices and vegetables that’ll work. I know you have the recipe on your hard drive _somewhere_ , and I’ve been craving Mom’s cooking for over two years, I swear…” 

He trailed off, finally noticing Pidge staring at him like he’d grown a second head. Looking puzzled, Matt asked, “What?” 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Pidge asked. Her words came out a bit sharper than she intended. 

“That I missed Mom’s cooking?” Matt guessed, knitting his brow in confusion. 

“Not that,” said Pidge. “The part about _Hunk_ having a _crush_ on me.” 

Matt sat up, responding to Pidge’s alarmed tone even as he frowned. “Um. Yeah? What about it?” 

Pidge just stared at him. 

It took a moment, but then Matt blinked. “Oh,” he said, sounding like he’d been caught making a simple math error in his calculus homework. “You… didn’t know that.”

“Uh, _no_ , no, I did not,” Pidge replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What makes you think Hunk has a crush on me? Did he say something?” 

“N-no, not really, I just—,” Matt began, sounding more awkward the longer Pidge stared at him. “It seemed kind of obvious to me? He’s always hanging around and trying to impress you with stuff, like I used to do with any crushes I had. And I like Hunk, he’s a good guy, I figured you were just being polite and ignoring it.” 

Pidge could barely process what Matt was saying. “He’s… of course he’s always hanging around, Matt! He’s my best friend! Isn’t that what friends do?” 

Her voice was starting to sound a little pitchy as panic twisted uncomfortably in her stomach. It reminded her of being in fifth grade, listening to a group of girls talk about having crushes like it was some new fad. She’d never understood the sudden interest, though she’d contemplated making up a crush in case they asked and put her on the spot. (She opted not to, but it didn’t matter in the end. By fifth grade most of the other girls ignored her anyway.) 

“Hey,” Matt began, reading the alarm on her face. “No, Pidge, it’s not—look, I’m probably wrong. You know Hunk better than me, I’m sure I was just seeing things. I mean, hell, I’ve been alone in a secluded outpost for half a year. What do I know? My human contact needs some serious work.” 

He laughed and joked more about his poor socialization, clearly trying to change the subject as he wrapped an arm around Pidge’s shoulders. Still uncomfortable, Pidge let him talk but only nominally listened, already fretting about the revelation.

It was possible Matt was right about being secluded too long. Who knew what effects isolation and exposure to alien life would cause in humans? But Matt had always been better at reading people than her, especially when it came to the intricacies of friendships and relationships. Family, Pidge understood, but friends were a nebulous entity that had never quite existed for her as a kid with more brains than tact. She hadn’t even realized that Hunk and Lance were actually her friends until halfway through her time at the garrison. 

As for relationships, Pidge had determined early on that she didn’t understand romance, in real life or in media, and had long since given up trying. It all seemed rather inconsequential, especially after her life had been turned upside-down by the garrison’s lies. Who cared about romance when there was a conspiracy to uncover? 

Given her obvious inexperience in the field, it made more sense that Matt was right. 

Even though she let Matt change the subject, Pidge held the knowledge of his revelation in the back of her mind all morning, where it prodded at her like a pebble in her shoe. Hunk had been her friend for nearly two years, if she counted back to that very first day of awkwardly shaking hands and almost immediately running away. He was her first best friend outside of Matt, someone who shared her love of science and didn’t care when she got obsessive over her theories, and she’d never thought that he liked her as anything more than that. She scanned through her memories, trying to figure out if he’d ever acted weird or flirted with her like Lance sometimes did with other girls, and couldn’t recall a single instance. There was nothing to indicate that he was interested in her. 

 _How would you know_? a needling voice in the back of her mind prompted. _It’s not like you’d notice that kind of thing anyway._  

Pidge couldn’t debate that logic. It didn’t make any sense to argue with herself about it when she already knew she wasn’t adept at reading relationships. That was part of the reason she had relied so much on Matt in the first place. But Matt had backtracked, insisting his instincts must have been faulty, and Pidge assumed that any further questioning wouldn’t lead to anything. 

In light of that, Pidge opted for the most scientific, practical option: consult an expert.

 

* * *

 

She found Lance in the break room after lunch, playing with her stolen phone.

“Why do you always take that?” Pidge asked, momentarily losing sight of her goal in a flash of annoyance. “That’s still _my_ phone, Lance.” 

“Yeah, yeah, just let me beat this level,” Lance replied, with clearly zero intention of returning it. 

Pidge rolled her eyes. Then, getting back on track, she sat down next to him. If anyone would know more details about this alleged crush that Matt had theorized, it would be Lance. He was Hunk’s other best friend, after all. 

“Hey,” she prompted. “I want to play a game.”

Lance glanced at her. “What, like—on the phone? I’m almost past this level, dude—” 

“No, it’s called the questions game,” Pidge replied. Recalling her carefully crafted plan of attack, she chose her next words wisely. “I’ve never been beaten. Matt thinks I cheat, so I told him I could beat everyone on the ship. So far, the only person who has even come close to beating me is Keith.” 

The last word had the promised response. Lance paused the video game and stared at her through narrowed eyes. “Keith?”

“Yeah, I challenged him when he called back the other week,” she said, shrugging, like she didn’t see the competitive gleam in Lance’s eyes. “The game is, one person asks a bunch of questions rapid-fire and the other person answers back just as quickly. You get points for how many questions you can answer before you trip yourself up. And you get an extra point if the person asking the questions messes up first. Keith made it to ten points before he messed up. That’s the best I’ve ever seen. Other than me, of course.” 

“That doesn’t sound that hard,” Lance said, making a face. “I bet I could crush Keith’s score in the first round.” 

Hook, line, and— 

“I don’t know,” Pidge said, hesitating just long enough to see Lance’s eye twitch. “He was _pretty_ good at it.”

“No, nuh-uh, we’re doing this!” Lance said, setting the phone down and facing her. “Let’s go, Gunderson!” 

— _sinker_. 

“Okay,” Pidge said, mirroring Lance’s posture on the couch. She sat cross-legged, resting her arms on her knees, and said, “Like I said, it’s pretty simple. I’ll be the questioner first so you get the hang of the game. Oh, there is a rule I didn’t mention for the questioner— you have to ask the questions quickly, but they can’t be the same questions. Like, if I ask what color your eyes are, I can’t use that same question about the color of your hair or shirt or whatever. It has to be a different question. Got it?” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Lance said, waving his hand in a circle as if trying to speed her up. “C’mon, lemme try.” 

“All right,” replied Pidge. She took a deep breath before quickly starting with, “How old are you?” 

“Eighteen.” 

“What color’s your hair?” 

“Brown.” 

“Where are we right now?” 

“The Castle of Lions.” 

“Which Lion is yours?” 

“Blu—ah, fuck, Red,” Lance stumbled, pulling a face. “Hey! That’s so not fair, dude.” 

Pidge grinned at him. “I never said the questioner had to play fair.” 

“No, screw that, give me a do over.” 

“It’s cool,” Pidge said. “That was a trial run anyway. Are you ready to try it for real?” 

Lance made a show of cracking his knuckles, eying her with an exaggerated look of concentration. “Bring it on, Gunderson.” 

They ran through two rounds each. The first time, Pidge easily won, scoring 14 points over Lance’s paltry seven, but on the second round Lance nearly matched her with a score of eight. She had only snagged ten points, making Lance crow with victory even though she still won. 

“Huh,” Pidge said, shifting like she was considering getting up. “You were pretty close. Still no dice, though.” 

“Oh, hell no, you’re not leaving,” Lance commanded, fire in his eyes. “I was just getting warmed up. C’mon, I’m gonna _crush_ Keith’s score.” 

Rolling her eyes, Pidge settled back on the seat, trying not to look too pleased at Lance’s challenge. _Third time’s the charm_ , she thought, and immediately launched in with, “How many Lions are there?” 

“Five.” 

“What’s 8 times 3?” 

“24.” 

“Which arm of Shiro’s is metal?” 

“The right one.” 

“What color’s your shirt?” 

“Blue.” 

“Where are Allura and Coran from?” 

“Altea.” 

“How long has Hunk had a crush on me?” 

“About a year,” Lance said. Then, as though he’d only just heard her question, he blinked and said, “Wait, what?”

 _A year?_ Pidge thought, incredulous. Doing her best to keep the shock from her face, she folded her hands beneath her chin and leaned forward to stare at Lance. With narrowed eyes, she said, “So he _does_ have a crush on me, then.” 

Lance stared wide-eyed at her, realizing he’d been caught. “You didn’t hear that.” 

“Oh, I definitely did,” Pidge said. “A _year_ , Lance? And I had to find out from _Matt_?” 

“Wait, how does Matt know?” Lance asked, confused. Then, shaking his head, he said, “No, wait, that doesn’t matter—what matters is that you didn’t hear _anything_ from me. I can’t believe you just tricked me into breaking the bro code!” 

Pidge leaned forward and slugged him on the arm. Lance barely winced, which honestly just annoyed her more. Frustrated, she snapped, “ _You_ broke the bro code first by not telling _me_!” 

“You’re not even a bro!” 

“Uh, back at the garrison I had to sit through your entire stupid indoctrination into that made up rulebook, I think that qualifies,” Pidge countered. “That’s an hour of my life I’m never getting back, and that’s not even counting all the How I Met Your Mother episodes you made me watch.” 

“Okay,” Lance replied, eyes narrowing as he adopted his best mock-affronted tone. “One, that show was amazing—” 

“No, it wasn’t,” Pidge interjected flatly. 

“—and _two_ ,” he continued, “You of all people have no right to get mad about people keeping secrets. Or did you forget about pretending to be a _boy_ for the first year of our friendship?” 

“That’s not the same!” Pidge protested. “I had good reasons for that. This is a—I don’t know, it’s a friendship thing. You’re _my_ bro, too! You should have told me! He’s had a crush on me for a _year_ , Lance?” 

“Maybe longer, I don’t know,” Lance said. 

“ _Longer_?” 

“What?” Lance said. “I found out sometime just before we found the Blue Lion, but we’ve been a _little_ busy since then. It’s not like I keep track of his crushes.” 

The revelation that Hunk had apparently liked her before they even left the garrison was enough to throw Pidge for a loop. It was hard enough to imagine Hunk having a crush on her right now, but at least she could understand it objectively. She was his best friend and a fellow paladin. They’d survived battles together and lived side-by-side, seeing each other through the highs and lows of their war against the Galra Empire. It made sense that he might develop a crush on her from their shared experiences, even if it was driven by nothing more than isolation from other people.

But before they became the Voltron paladins? Back at the garrison, where Hunk had any number of pretty girls or handsome boys to admire? It didn’t make any sense that he’d focus his attentions on his weird teammate.

Pidge stared at Lance in disbelief, trying and failing to make this new knowledge match her experience. 

“Are you freaking out?” Lance asked, giving her a deadpan stare. 

“No.” 

“Really? Because it looks like you’re freaking out,” he said. 

“Shut up,” Pidge replied. “I’m not freaking out, I’m just—recalibrating.” 

“Oh my god, you are such a robot,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. Pidge glared at him, but he responded by giving her a pointed look and spreading his arms wide in a _you have to give me this_ sort of gesture.

“I am not freaking out,” Pidge repeated, ignoring the very real part of her brain that was, indeed, freaking out. Based on his expression, Lance clearly did not believe her, but she ignored him. Standing up, she plastered a fake smile on her face and said, “Great talking to you, Lance.” 

“Hey,” Lance said, brow furrowing. “What about the rest of the game?” 

Pidge stared at him in silence for a beat. Then, without a word, she turned to leave the room, already fretting over this new revelation. 

Behind her, Lance sputtered and said, “Wait, the game wasn’t real at _all_ , was it?” 

“Nope,” Pidge said, waving a hand behind her as she walked out the door. “Thanks for the information, Lance!” 

Lance’s annoyed cursing followed her out.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t that Pidge had never thought about it. 

Dating had always been one of those strange things that the world deemed incredibly important despite it being inherently uninteresting to her. Once she entered middle school, it felt like the rest of the students were consumed by this seemingly instinctual desire to start pairing up. Pidge remembered sitting in the library and watching her fellow students, trying to determine if she felt any new push telling her to go make out with them. The instincts never showed up, leaving her feeling even more lost. 

She recalled asking her mother about it, one night when her projects weren’t enough to banish away the cold feeling of otherness. Her father and brother had just left for their trip, shrinking her already small circle by half. 

“Oh, sweetie,” her mother said, kissing her on the forehead. “You’re still young. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to date when you’re older.” 

Her response didn’t answer the question she was asking, but thirteen-year-old Katie had no idea how to ask it differently. 

Things changed when she got to the Galaxy Garrison. 

At long last, Pidge found herself surrounded by students as interested in math and science as she was, though she was still considered rather nerdy by comparison. She remained a wallflower, mind locked on Kerberos when she wasn’t studying, but no one laughed at her when she added interesting facts to the science lectures. The teachers didn’t get mad when she questioned the pattern of problem solving during calculus or corrected out-of-date information in her textbooks. For the first time, she waved to students in the hall and honestly considered some of them her friends, even if they all thought she was a boy named Pidge Gunderson. 

Part of her hoped that she would finally figure out the allure of this dating thing, now that she was with a group of students who got excited about science instead of just complaining about it. But despite her new friends, Pidge still felt lost whenever the conversation would turn to gossip about the various romantic encounters around the school. Everyone seemed to be weirdly invested in this new, unfathomable competition to see who could be the most desirable. 

Pidge couldn’t help feeling left behind. It was like getting picked last in gym class for a sport she couldn’t care less about. She didn’t want to play, but it still made her feel small standing alone and unwanted after the rest of the students had already been picked. 

Hunk was actually the first person to make her feel like she might understand a small part of what the rest of the world was talking about. 

Two weeks after she first enrolled in Galaxy Garrison, heart heavy with homesickness and still anxious about her double life, Pidge entered the cafeteria with exhaustion hanging over her like a cloud. She had three more classes to attend that afternoon, but all she wanted to do was go back to her dorm and sleep off the headache building at the base of her skull. She went mechanically through the lunch line. She was contemplating just tossing her tray and snagging fifteen minutes of sleep when she spotted the dessert section just ahead.

Even when the dessert bar had good desserts, they were usually picked over by the upperclassmen, leaving only tiny bowls of Jello and baked apples for the rest of the students. But that day, Pidge saw a single remaining plate of peanut butter cookies amidst the rest of the rejected desserts, a beacon of hope like ice water in a desert.

She grabbed the plate of cookies and felt her dark mood lift briefly, but before she could head to her table, someone snatched the plate out of her hands. 

A pair of senior boys twice her size stood over her. The one who grabbed the cookies smirked at her and said, “Sorry kid, cookies are only for the _real_ astronauts, not the baby ones.” 

Too shocked to protest, Pidge could only stare as the pair turned and walked away, laughing as they ate her cookies. 

She wound up throwing her tray away after all, appetite lost in favor of anger, and spent the rest of the lunch period fruitlessly trying to nap. The remainder of the day was a blur of exhausted irritation. 

However, while she was bitterly slogging through her homework that night, Pidge was interrupted by a knock on the door. When she opened it, Hunk was standing outside with a paper bag in his hands.

“Hey man,” Hunk said, shooting her an easy grin. “Uh, so, you’re still kind of new here, and I know you said you had a lot of stuff to work on, but I remember when I first got to the garrison and how much it sucked being away from home, so, um— here.” 

He held out the small paper bag. Warily, Pidge took it and looked inside. 

Instantly, she was hit with the sweet smell of peanut butter and spice. Inside the bag were four perfectly baked cookies, still warm and soft from the oven. 

“I saw those seniors being jerks to you at lunch,” Hunk said, a hint of apology in his tone. “They’re not all like that, but some of those guys can be dicks. But, uh, well— not to brag, but I make way better peanut butter cookies than the cafeteria does anyway. And I was making cookies for a bake sale tomorrow and I figured I could spare a few for you?” 

To this day, Pidge had no idea if Hunk made up the bake sale or not. Now that she knew him better, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had seen her run-in with the bullies and decided to make cookies for her as some kind of makeshift apology. He had been just as invested as Lance in making friends with their new teammate, even if he wasn’t quite as insistent about it. While Lance had fought against Pidge’s prickly walls with daily, unsolicited attacks of friendship, Hunk simply decided they were friends and stood his ground, as unmovable as a mountain. 

At the time, Pidge found herself torn by the gesture, looking up at Hunk with the sudden realization that _this_ might be what people were talking about when they discussed wanting to date someone. Hunk smiled down at her, the genuine warmth on his face as captivating as a painting, and Pidge couldn’t help but stare. For a brief moment, Pidge found herself overwhelmed by the gesture, feeling a flutter in her heart that she’d never really experienced before, and she thought, _oh._  

The illusion didn’t last, shut away in her haste to maintain her cover, but Pidge had never forgotten the brief moment of clarity. Every so often, she experienced similar flashes of warmth with other people, like momentary crushes that never amounted to more than a blush on the cheeks and a vague sense of wonder like, _is this what other people are talking about?_  

She still didn’t have an answer to that.

 

* * *

 

The Grand Mata Market was a sight to behold. 

The entire market was spread wide over vast plains, stretching so far into the distance that Pidge couldn’t see the end. The market hadn’t seemed that big from the observation deck of the Castle of Lions, but now that she was standing at the entrance, staring with wide eyes at the rows upon rows of stalls and displays, Pidge felt nearly overwhelmed. 

Other than the structured street order, there was nothing similar about any of the stalls. Just in the first row, Pidge could see a bright orange stand selling sweet-smelling buns piled high in bins, which neighbored a felt tent selling elaborately embroidered dresses. Across from them, a small troupe of multi-limbed aliens performed acrobatics while their bejeweled hype man engaged their small audience in a language Pidge had never heard before. She tilted her helmet toward the sound and managed to hear a few translated phrases, but she was too far away to catch more than that. 

The market mixed seamlessly into the established streets of Mata, creating a rainbow of tents and advertisements along long rows of stone buildings. Aliens wandered everywhere, chatting with each other and eating odd-looking food on sticks as vendors called for their attention, holding up their wares to show off unique attributes. The streets were packed tight with all sorts of customers, ranging from tiny, winged aliens with wide glowing eyes to massive bipedal aliens with thick white fur and sharp fangs dipping below their jawline. Hunk was the closest to the average size, leaving Pidge and even Lance to stare at the variety of alien species with trepidation in their eyes. 

“Okay, am I the only one feeling a bit out of depth here?” Lance asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the cacophony of noise and color before him. “Where do we even _start_?” 

“I’m gonna get crushed,” Pidge predicted, crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest. They were all in full paladin armor, visors up but helmets on, and she was grateful to have at least that small measure of protection against the swarming crowd before them. 

“Nah, there are some walkways,” Lance assured her, gesturing to some relative space at the edges of the market. His brow knitted as he looked around, catching sight of a few aliens staring openly at them. “I think we’ve been recognized.” 

“Hopefully in a good way,” Pidge said. “I wonder if they sell those little Voltron dolls here?” 

“Oh, yeah, we should totally get a set!” 

“Okay, guys, game plan,” Hunk interjected. Pidge turned to look back at him. He was using his gauntlet to project a giant map of the market, scanning the streets and zooming in on their approximate location. When he looked back up at them, Pidge was surprised to see absolute determination in his expression, betraying no hint of his normal anxiety. “We have five miles of market to get through in less than five hours, so we need to focus.” 

“Wow, okay, General Hunk,” Lance said, grinning at him. “I would have thought you’d hate these crowds.” 

“Oh, I definitely do,” Hunk agreed with a nod to Lance, “but the promise of good food conquers all fear. We are getting everything on our list if it kills us.” 

“Oh man, don’t say that,” Lance complained. “That’s like daring fate to mess with us.” 

“Fate will not get between me and my cooking,” Hunk declared decisively. 

Pidge watch the exchange with a faint grin, enjoying the sight of Hunk in his element. Listening to him talk about cooking or machines always reminded her of talking to her dad and brother about science, the fire in his eyes comfortingly familiar. 

When she first ran into Hunk after Matt’s surprising revelation, Pidge had worried that she’d suddenly see whatever it was that Matt saw. The very thought of it made her uncomfortable—how was she supposed to deal with Hunk if he was actually flirting with her? She couldn’t even imagine Hunk trying to seduce her with some cheesy pick-up line like Lance did with his various alien crushes, smirking at her with suave confidence. The very thought made her stomach twist with anxiety. 

But when she finally spoke with Hunk, nothing seemed different at all. He’d grinned and started chatting with her about the market, still babbling about the new produce he’d been researching and various spices the Olkarians had told him about. Pidge couldn’t remember anything she said during that conversation, too busy puzzling over the notion that he had a crush on her and _what wasn’t she seeing_ , exactly? 

“Pidge!” a voice cut through her thoughts, and Pidge forced herself back into the moment. Hunk and Lance stared back at her, the former saying, “Did you hear the plan?” 

“Uh, no,” Pidge admitted, embarrassed by her distraction. “Sorry, there’s a lot to look at. One more time?” 

“We were just talking about how we’re going to get everything,” Hunk said, flipping back to the long grocery list they had compiled the night before. “Most of the stuff on here is food, which is all on the outer circle of the market. The middle rows have a lot of crafty things and performers and stuff, so we can probably pick up some of the extra Castle parts that Allura requested there, but we don’t have a ton of time, so it would make more sense for us to split up to get everything.” 

“So what, two people getting the food and one getting the parts?” Pidge asked. 

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “I’m gonna be getting the produce, so it’s between you and Lance to get the other stuff. Pidge, I figured you might be more interested in the mechanical stuff, so do you—” 

“Nah, let me do it,” Lance interrupted. He stood just behind Hunk, smirking at Pidge in a way that made her narrow her eyes at him. “Pidge can help you grab the food.” 

“Really?” Hunk asked, raising an eyebrow at Lance. “I would have figured you’d want to taste-test all the weird stuff with me.” 

“That _does_ sound fun,” Lance admitted, “but I’m cool to grab the extra parts. Allura sent all of us that list, right?” 

Pidge stared at Lance, not trusting his sudden interest in mechanical parts. Frowning, she said, “Doesn’t it make more sense for me to get that stuff?” 

“I was there when Allura went through the specifics, too, Pigeon,” Lance replied, the teasing nickname on the end only proving that he was _definitely_ getting back at her for tricking him earlier. 

“Yeah, but _some_ of us understand more than basic-level engineering, _Lancelot_ ,” Pidge sniped back, trying to mimic Lance’s teasing tone but not quite succeeding. 

“I understand plenty!” Lance made a face at her. “Okay, just for that, I’m _definitely_ getting the parts now. Basic-level engineering, my ass—” 

“Just last week you asked if the ship had a propeller.” 

“That was a joke!” Lance countered. “I thought it’d be cool to ride space waves.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense!” 

“It really doesn’t matter who gets what, guys,” Hunk said, awkwardly trying to mediate as he looked between the two of them. “Why are you guys acting so weird about this? It’s just a shopping trip.” 

“Yeah, Pidge,” Lance said, raising an eyebrow at her as that same annoying smirk played on his lips. “Why are you acting so weird about this?” 

She hated the assumption she could hear in his voice, like she was arguing to go alone because she was suddenly uncomfortable around Hunk. It felt wrong on multiple levels—she was _confused_ by the crush, not uncomfortable around Hunk, and even if she was examining their interactions with more scrutiny, that didn’t suddenly mean she couldn’t hang out with her best friend. 

Unless Lance was trying to set them up or something. Pidge’s stomach dropped at the idea that Lance might think he was being a wingman or some other nonsense gleamed from old sitcoms. 

That thought in mind, Pidge stared coolly at Lance, trying to silently tell him to _knock it off_. Pointedly, she asked, “Do you really want me to answer that question, Lance?” 

It took a moment for Lance to hear the implied threat— _if Hunk finds out I know about his crush, who do you think he’ll blame_? —but when he did, he narrowed his eyes in a glare that wouldn’t intimidate a kitten. 

“Well played, Gunderson,” Lance replied, as though she’d just bested him at a game of cards. Then, grinning brightly at Hunk, he clapped a hand on the taller boy’s shoulder and said, “Well, I’m off to grab the ship parts, see you guys later.” 

“Hey!” Pidge said, but Lance spun off before she could protest more, laughter in the air as he disappeared into the crowd. “Not fair, Lance!” 

A moment later, a buzz sounded in her ear. “No one said the questioner had to play _fair_ , Pigeon,” Lance teased, his voice slightly tinny as it echoed through a private line in her helmet communicator. 

“You’re the worst,” Pidge hissed, before reaching up to actively disconnect the line. She looked up to see Hunk watching her with a bemused expression. 

“Are you guys fighting again or something?” he asked, holding out a pair of folded reusable bags that they commonly used for grocery trips like this. 

Pidge sighed, taking the bags without complaint. “Or something,” she answered honestly, following as Hunk began the route toward the outer circles of the market. At Hunk’s questioning look, she said, “It’s stupid. I played a trick on him earlier and he’s still mad about it.” 

“I told you, Lance fights dirty,” Hunk said, shooting her a grin. 

“I’ll get him back, don’t worry,” Pidge promised. She stayed behind Hunk as they moved, grateful for his larger form as she followed in the wake of his crowd displacement. It mostly worked, though she was occasionally almost run over by aliens who thought they could weave around him. When they made it to the first stall, Pidge stepped forward with the first cloth bag held ready. 

“Lance honestly would have been a better choice,” Pidge murmured as Hunk examined some familiar yellow and green fruits. “All this stuff is going to get heavy after awhile.” 

“We need to get a bunch of lighter vegetables too,” Hunk assured her. “Between the two of us, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Oh, and spices. We’re nearly out of a few important ones.” 

The mention of spices triggered Pidge’s memory. “Oh, right, that reminds me,” she began, “Matt wanted to see if we could get some stuff to make some variety of spaghetti bolognese.” 

“Never made it,” Hunk said, distracted as he selected various fruits and piled them on his arm for safekeeping. “But if you have the recipe, I’d love to try it. What is that, Italian? Is it a family recipe for you guys?” 

“Yeah, it’s one of my mom’s favorites,” Pidge replied, surprised by Hunk’s memory. They had talked about their families before— a year in deep space was a long time, even if it was interspersed with fighting and missions— but Pidge hadn’t expected him to remember an insignificant detail like that. 

Unbidden, she could hear Matt’s voice in her head: _“With Hunk’s crush on you, I bet he’d be willing to figure it out even if he’s never made it before.”_ She frowned at the thought, staring askance at Hunk to see if he’d had any weird reaction that could be explained away by a crush. Hunk didn’t look any different to her, but Matt must have seen or heard _something_ to make him so sure of a crush that he’d state it as common fact. 

Unfortunately, Hunk happened to turn to her at the same time, catching her examining look before she could mask it. Confused, Hunk said, “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“No,” Pidge said. Her reaction was too fast, making it sound even more like she was covering for something, and she hastily stammered, “But uh—it’s kind of a complicated recipe. I don’t know if we’d be able to find the spices for it.” 

Hunk eyed her for a second longer before apparently dismissing her weird look. He stood up with a collection of oblong fruits balanced on his arm, saying, “Well, what does it call for?” 

“Basil and rosemary, I think. Let me check,” Pidge replied. She pulled up her display to check her files for the recipe, grateful for the excuse to immerse herself in technology while Hunk paid for the fruit. After a few moments, she said, “Yeah, those two. Do we have anything like that?” 

“Basil, yeah,” Hunk replied. “But rosemary might be harder. I’m sure we can find something on the outer edges. I think I saw something about spice vendors on the map—maybe toward the west?”

Moving to the side of the busy street, Hunk pulled up the market map one more time, brow furrowing in concentration. However, before he could do much more than zoom in on their location, a new voice cut into their conversation.

“Spices, you say?” 

Pidge turned toward the voice and nearly stumbled back at the sight of two large, pixelated eyes staring at them like a particularly fascinated fly. The eyes were attached to a tall, slender alien with green skin. He wore a set of brown robes that settled in layers around his body, secured in various spots with a number of thick belts. A pair of gossamer wings peaked out from underneath a thin cape. 

“Oh dear me, Zzipteh didn’t intend to give you a fright,” the alien said, staring at Pidge with his large, unblinking eyes. She could nearly see herself reflected in each pixel and had to force herself not to look away. “Zzipteh couldn’t help but overhear your dilemma, but never you fear, Zzipteh can assist you both.” 

“…Zzipteh?” Hunk asked. Pidge glanced at him and was relieved to note that she wasn’t the only one disturbed by the insect eyes. Hunk’s face was a tight mask of politeness, but a twitch in his eye revealed his discomfort. “Uh. What is Zzipteh?”

“This one is Zzipteh,” the alien replied, gesturing to himself. Now that Pidge had broken away from his disturbing eyes, she could see the rest of his green skin was covered in a faint layer of pale hair. He didn’t appear to have a nose, but a pair of antenna swayed above his head, moving independently in a way that reminded her of dogs sniffing the air. “And you are the Voltron paladins, are you not? Zzipteh has seen a few of your shows and was quite impressed.” 

“Thank you?” Pidge replied, uncertain how to reply. 

“Uh, I’m Hunk and this is Pidge,” Hunk said, slightly more polite. He managed to squash his fear and extend his hand to Zzipteh. The alien stared at the appendage in silence, his own thin arms motionless by his side, and after a few moments Hunk awkwardly pulled his hand back. “It’s nice to meet you, Zzipteh.” 

“What did you mean, you can help us?” Pidge asked. 

“Zzipteh knows the Grand Mata Market like the pattern of his wings,” Zzipteh replied, the wings in question giving a brief flutter of acknowledgment. “If it is spices you seek, Zzipteh would be more than happy to assist the Voltron paladins. It is thanks to you that Mata remains safe from the Galra Empire, after all!” 

The warmth in the strange alien’s voice was infectious, and Pidge found her lips twitching in a small smile despite his disturbing appearance. “Um,” she said, glancing at Hunk, “I mean, I guess that would be helpful?” 

Hunk seemed more wary. “Y’know, thank you for offering, but we have a pretty detailed map, so I think we’ll probably be fine—” 

“Oh, but that map does not know the best spots,” Zzipteh replied, his wings buzzing in his eagerness to help. “Zzipteh is well known at the market and can show you the best vendors! Some stands will try to fleece you, you see, but Zzipteh won’t let such a thing happen to the Voltron paladins! Zzipteh’s family couldn’t stand for such trickery, especially not after Zzipteh’s daughter collected all five of the Voltron dolls for her very own.” 

Zzipteh followed his statement with a few high-pitched chirps, which Pidge realized must be some kind of laughter. She glanced at Hunk, who stared back at her with the familiar frozen expression of a person unsure how to react to a weird social situation. It made Pidge wish that Lance had stayed with them. He’d probably have been able to diffuse the conversation through sheer charm. 

For a brief moment, they were locked in silent, mutual confusion on how to handle the conversation. Pidge broke the gaze to look at Zzipteh, who was watching them with the same sort of interest that she’d seen from other self-proclaimed fans of Voltron. They had been running into this sort of thing more and more ever since Coran had made the big push for the Voltron shows, making her feel like some sort of D-list celebrity: not popular enough for bodyguards, but still attracting weird amounts of attention. 

“I mean,” Pidge finally said, looking back to Hunk and shrugging. “It might make things go faster to have a guide. And we’ll still have your map if it doesn’t work out, right?” 

“I guess so,” Hunk replied, uncertainty clear in his expression. Voicing the words seemed to bolster his resolve, and he looked back to Zzipteh with a smile that only looked halfway forced. “We were heading to the west side to look at spices anyway, so if you know the vendor with the best supply, we’d definitely appreciate the introduction.” 

“Zzipteh is excited to help,” the alien said. His small mouth grimaced in a semblance of a grin, the effect very off-putting, and Pidge barely managed a tight smile in response. “Please, follow along! Zzipteh’s daughter will be so pleased to hear that Zzipteh has met the Yellow and Green paladins. Her favorite is the Red Paladin, though—she loves brushing the Red Paladin’s long white hair on the doll Zzipteh has given her—” 

Zzipteh turned and made his way into the crowd, maintaining a pleasant running commentary the entire while, and Hunk and Pidge followed after. It was tricky to keep up at times, as the alien was clearly more familiar with the roads and could weave between the crowds with a grace that Hunk and Pidge couldn’t duplicate. Hunk kept his map up on his arm display, checking their tracks against the route he’d predicted, but as they stayed on course, he glanced at it less and less. 

The Grand Mata Market only grew more dazzling and odd the deeper in they wove. The sun was just starting to set, casting increasingly long shadows as the sky began to tint pink. All around them, vendors sold their products from elaborate tents and detailed stands and rickety carts, each calling for customers in a cacophony of strange new languages. The produce came in every shape and color Pidge could imagine and she could scarcely imagine how to use any of them, though Hunk occasionally pointed out a few on their list. 

They stopped a couple times when Hunk saw something they needed, and Zzipteh indeed proved useful in introducing them to different vendors. He seemed to know everyone, his wings buzzing with every congenial greeting, and it helped to haggle for purchases. The entire thing reminded Pidge of going to conference dinners with her dad, who seemed to have a greeting or nod of acknowledgment for every person they came across. 

As they got closer to the edges of the edges of the market, the streets narrowed, leaving much less room to maneuver. Zzipteh didn’t slow down, apparently not noticing the change, but Pidge found herself falling behind as more and more aliens pushed into her space. 

“Hey, Hunk, could you—” Pidge began, but before she could complete her sentence, Hunk reached back an arm and took her hand in his, pulling her closer to him. 

She leaned on Hunk’s arm, appreciating the relative safety from the mess of people around them. His hand was heavy and warm around her own, calloused from years of working on machines, and it struck her that she couldn’t remember the last time someone had held her hand. It felt nice. 

Beside her, Hunk glanced at his map again as he followed after Zzipteh. Puzzled, he called ahead, “Hey, Zzipteh, where are we right now? It looks like we’re off the map—” 

“Zzipteh knows a shortcut,” called back their guide. Pidge couldn’t see him anymore, but Hunk apparently still could as he led her through the crowd of customers. “The market is too crowded on this side, but Zzipteh will get you through!” 

Speeding up to match Zzipteh’s pace, Hunk pulled Pidge along, weaving through the crowd with a string of “ _excuse me_ ”s and “ _pardon_ ”s that did nothing to alleviate the press of customers. 

Finally, Zzipteh’s path brought them to a brief respite from the crowd. Hunk and Pidge stepped out behind a large tent on the edge of the street and found themselves at the mouth of an alleyway between two large stone buildings. The alleyway was littered with boxes and crates, reminding Pidge of the various loading docks she’d seen along the road leading up to the market. A number of the docks led directly to delivery ships, acting as different staging areas for the entire complex. At the other end of the alley, Pidge could see more lights and tents as the market continued further on, though it was clear they were at the far edge. 

“Huh, I don’t think this map is complete,” Hunk said, staring down at his display. They’d stopped at the entrance to the alley, enjoying the opportunity to breath the fresh air after their whirlwind trek through the market. “I can’t find this place at all.” 

“The Grand Mata Market is always changing,” Zzipteh confirmed, already moving down the alleyway. Wings buzzing eagerly, he said, “Come along, the best spice vendors are just through here!” 

After a beat, Hunk started to move forward, and Pidge abruptly realized he was still holding her hand. She gently twisted her arm to take it back, figuring it would be easier for him to maneuver without having to pull her along. 

As soon as she moved, Hunk dropped her hand with unnecessary haste, jerking his hand awkwardly back. Pidge glanced up at him, startled, and just managed to catch a faint pink tinge to his cheeks before he looked away. The strange moment hovered between them for a split second before Hunk stepped toward the alley, examining his arm display with renewed focus. 

Pidge stared after him. _Could that be it?_  

She considered the brief exchange. It seemed like the first solid evidence she’d seen of Hunk’s supposed crush. Despite the thought, her mind immediately supplied a plethora of explanations for Hunk’s reaction, reminding Pidge why she usually avoided thinking about this at all. For all she knew, Hunk was embarrassed about having to deal with Pidge’s sweaty hands. 

Heaving a sigh, Pidge shook off the question in her mind and followed Hunk into the alley.

The narrow path between the buildings was dimly lit and littered with abandoned boxes and crates, though the established walkway was clear from debris. Pidge examined the cargo containers with interest as they passed, intrigued by the wide variety of alien writing etched on the sides. She recognized the Galra script on nearly every box, cementing its reign as the trade language of choice.

They were midway down the alley when Pidge caught sight of something written in familiar Chinese characters. She bent down to peer at it closer. “Hey, Hunk, they have some boxes from Earth here.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Hunk said, pausing beside an open doorway on one of the buildings and turning to look. “What’s it say?” 

“It’s in Chinese, I have no idea,” Pidge replied, shrugging. “It’s definitely from Earth, though—the serial number on the box uses Arabic numerals.” 

“That’s so cool, I wonder how it—”

Without warning, a blur from the other side of the alley collided with Hunk, propelling him through the open door and into the building. 

Pidge’s eyes went wide and she jolted up, generating her bayard on instinct and crying, “Hunk!” 

She dropped her shopping bag and ran into the building without a second thought, scanning for the threat. The doorway led to an open warehouse. Boxes were piled along the walls, lit solely by the sunlight streaming through a line of large windows near the ceiling. 

Hunk grappled with a large purple form about ten feet into the dusty room, nearly matched for size and trying to avoid getting pinned. Fruit was scattered on the ground around them. 

Pidge snarled and lunged forward, hand swinging wide to shoot her bayard at his attacker’s back, but something grabbed her arm before she could move. She jerked in surprise, but before she could do anything, something else nabbed her other arm while another tied her legs together. A heavy weight twined around her torso and pulled her up against a solid form. 

She twisted and fought, but the grip around her limbs didn’t falter. Practically immobile, she could barely turn to examine whatever was holding her down. Thick black tentacles kept her solidly pinned, leaving a faint trail of slime as they slid. The underside of the tentacles was covered in tiny green suckers that clung tight to her armor. 

A crash in front of her drew Pidge’s attention. Hunk had managed to toss off his attacker by generating his shield and scrambling to his feet. He looked around with sharp eyes, scanning for other threats while his foe worked to get free of the box they had been thrown into. 

Hunk froze as soon as he saw Pidge, eyes growing wide. 

“Good day, Yellow Paladin,” said the creature holding her. It took the translator in her helmet a second to adjust to his gravelly voice. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Let her go!” Hunk snapped, his bayard activating at his side. 

The tentacle around her waist twisted further up her body, tightening painfully around her ribs and creeping onto her shoulder. Pidge winced and pulled against the grip, but it was unyielding. 

“Put that away,” the alien said, sounding like a disappointed father. “Really, what are you going to do? Shoot me? You’ll hit your friend.” 

Hunk scowled, eyes narrowing, but he didn’t fire. Pidge’s mind scrambled for an avenue of escape, but with her limbs pinned down she was limited for options. Even if she could generate her shield, her arm wasn’t at the right angle to block any shots from Hunk’s direction. Her bayard was still activated, but it was pointed forward, away from the alien holding her _._  

The alien who attacked Hunk stepped up, freed from the box, and pointed a long, jagged dagger at Hunk’s neck. She was built nearly as thickly as he was and wore a long, fur-lined coat that added to her bulk.

“Set the gun down now,” she snapped. Gold jewelry glinted from various piercings on her face. “Don’t make me repeat myse—” 

Before she could finish, Pidge tweaked the angle of her wrist and fired her bayard. 

It struck the alien woman on the side of the face, slicing into her cheek and sending a spray of blue blood through the air. Sparks flared from her gold piercings as she stumbled backwards. 

Without warning, the tentacle around Pidge’s wrist tightened sharply, sending a wave of agonizing pain down her arm. She stifled a shriek as the bones in her wrist cracked. 

“Pidge!” Hunk cried, jumping forward. 

Blood streaming down the side of her face, the alien woman recovered from Pidge’s attack and leapt forward again. Hunk’s advance faltered as she placed her dagger at his throat. 

“Stop this idiocy at _once_!” the alien holding Pidge shouted, sounding furious. He stopped tightening the grip around her arm, but the tentacle around her torso wound even higher. A tendril crept up her neck, smearing vile slime on her jaw. 

Hunk froze, though he looked more furious than frightened by the weapon near his throat. He locked eyes with Pidge, fists clenched tightly around his blaster. 

From behind her, Pidge suddenly heard familiar, high-pitched laughter. 

“See, what did Zzipteh tell you, Veera?” Zzipteh said, slowly walking into view with a gun that he definitely hadn’t shown earlier. It was pointed at Hunk. “You say, this is just another job, so easy it will be, and Zzipteh _warned_ you, didn’t he? Didn’t Zzipteh say that the Voltron Paladins would be a fun challenge?” 

“Shut up, Zzipteh,” Veera said, her large ears twitching in annoyance even as she held the dagger steady at Hunk’s throat. “What do you even know about battle?” 

“Children,” the alien behind Pidge said, exasperation clear in his tone. The tentacle on her face crept higher, trailing slime across her cheekbone. Pidge tried to pull away, but her captor held her firm, apparently not taking any more chances. “We only have a limited window here.” 

“Right, right, many apologies, Unlao,” Zzipteh said, his wings buzzing anxiously. He looked back at Hunk. “Yellow Paladin, please put away the gun. Zzipteh is sure it is getting heavy by now.” 

Hunk glared back for a long moment, eyes darting between Zzipteh, Unlao, and Pidge, but eventually he loosened his grip on the blaster. It dematerialized and flashed back into his bayard. Beside him, Veera lowered her dagger from his neck, though she held it ready. 

“Excellent,” Zzipteh said. He turned to Pidge. “Now yours, Green Paladin.” 

Pidge could hardly face him, pinned down as she was against Unlao, but she scowled nonetheless. The tentacle around her wrist pulsed a brief warning. Annoyed, she pulled her weapon back. 

As her bayard dematerialized, the room suddenly swam in front of her eyes. Pidge blinked a few times and it came back into focus, leaving her with a disoriented feeling. Her lips were beginning to tingle. 

“Now that we have that unpleasantness behind us,” Unlao said, his voice rumbling along Pidge’s back. “Perhaps we can start over.” 

“Why don’t we start with why you attacked us?” Hunk asked. His voice only wavered a tiny bit, nerves shaking his bravado. “Or better yet, let’s start with you _letting her go_.” 

“I think not,” Unlao said. “We’re bounty hunters, after all. Fighting fair is bad for business.” 

Pidge blinked as the world went fuzzy again. Her lips were _definitely_ tingling. 

Alarm shot through her, and she tried to say, “Hunk, something’s wro—” but the tentacle around her chest tightened, choking the air from her throat. 

“You’re hurting her!” Hunk cried, stepping forward. 

Veera moved to meet him, blade flashing dangerously in the dim light. “Don’t,” she warned coldly. 

Hunk paused, clenching his jaw, but stayed warily back. 

“As long as you cooperate, the Green Paladin will be just fine,” Unlao said. His tone didn’t waver, staying calm in the face of Hunk’s aggression. “Both of you will be coming with us. We have an employer who is _very_ interested in meeting some of the Voltron paladins.” 

“Well, we’re not really interested in meeting them,” Hunk replied. “And if you think we’re just going to follow you out of here, you’re crazy.” 

“You don’t have much of a choice,” Unlao reminded him, tightening the tentacle around Pidge’s torso until she gasped again. She tried to struggle against the grip, but her limbs felt sluggish, like she had just woken up from a deep sleep. 

 _Something’s wrong_ , Pidge thought, seeing the view in front of her blur once more. _I can barely hold my head up, what’s going on—?_

The tentacle on her face quivered, smearing more slime against her bare skin. Half of her face felt numb. 

 _Oh god, it’s the slime—!_

Before Pidge could even try to speak, Hunk was already snapping back at Unlao, “What do you think you’re going to do? Walk out of here holding her like that? There are thousands of people in the market, and I’m willing to bet at least half of them would recognize the Paladins of Voltron. There’s no way you could kidnap us in plain sight.” 

He was trying to sound confident, but Pidge had been working alongside Hunk for over a year now. She could tell when he was covering up real panic. 

“Of course not,” Unlao replied. “I’m just going to move a crate to my ship. And shortly thereafter, you will accompany Veera and Zzipteh to join me.” 

Unlao moved, probably gesturing to something, but the world was beginning to swim more violently around her. Even the small movement sent things spinning. Pidge closed her eyes, trying to fight against the dizziness, but it stayed with her despite her efforts. 

Dimly, she could hear Hunk protesting, “—no way we’re just going to cooperate with you. Between the two of us, _someone’s_ going to notice something is wrong.” 

“You better hope they don’t,” Unlao said. “I’ll be taking the Green Paladin with me. Now, let’s say you fight back. Veera’s strong and Zzipteh’s quick, but you are a Voltron Paladin, so maybe you win, who knows? I’ll still have the Green Paladin, and you don’t know where my ship is, so I’d say that’s a solid victory. Even one bounty is plenty of money, especially if I don’t have to split it four ways.” 

Pidge could barely follow the conversation anymore, lethargy weighing heavily on her limbs. She hung in the grip of the tentacles, feeling like she was floating in blackness. A feeling of cold numbness slid slowly down her spine. 

“—idge?” Hunk said. He sounded alarmed. “What did you do to her? Pidge? _Pidge_!” 

“If you want to protect her, I suggest you play along,” Unlao said, a sneer in his voice. 

The tentacles shifted around her body as though moving her through the air, but Pidge was too far gone to tell anymore. Darkness overtook her like the crash of a wave.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

_Middle school was so much worse than Katie imagined._

_She tried to avoid the popular kids, the ones who laughed too loud and showed off for each other, but it was impossible to stay unnoticed in the morning corral before class._

_She stared down at her book with eagle-eyed focus, trying to ignore the boy who was sidling up next to her. An arm dropped down on her shoulders and she snapped her eyes up, glaring over at Dylan-or-Daniel-or-whatever-his-name-was._

_“Katie wants a boyfriend, right?” he asked, making a kissy face at her while his friends watched and laughed. One of the girls whispered, “Gross,” so loud it caused a cascade of nervous giggles. “Hey, Katie, do you spit or swallow? The world wants to know—”_

_“I bite,” Katie snapped, her tone as rigid as her spine. A couple kids laughed, but Katie only saw the flare of shocked horror on the boy’s face as he scrambled backwards._

_A teacher interrupted the gaggle before anything more could be said, but the damage had been done. Whispers of “dyke” now followed her in the halls, but if it meant she could read without being accosted, Katie didn’t care._

  

* * *

 

 

Cold was the first sensation Pidge registered when she finally emerged from the darkness. 

She shivered at the feeling of cold metal against her bare feet, trying to shift them away from the exposure. She was resting against something warm and soft but the air was chilly against her skin. 

“Pidge?” a voice asked. It took a few moments to identify the speaker. _Hunk?_ He sounded close. “Pidge, are you awake?” 

Still groggy, Pidge scrunched her eyes shut and burrowed against the warmth. She wasn’t wearing her glasses. It felt weird, because she didn’t have her helmet on, and she always wore them when she wasn’t— 

The memory of the market suddenly struck her, and Pidge’s eyes flew open. The market! The _bounty hunters_ —! 

She was lying half-cradled against Hunk’s chest, his arm held firmly around her shoulders while her legs stretched out onto the floor. It spoke to her disorientation that she didn’t immediately flail at the proximity, but Pidge was quickly distracted by their strange surroundings. They were in a small room barren of any adornments other than a pair of metal pails in the corner. The only light came through the barred window of the door, casting most of the cell in shadow. 

“W-what happened?” Pidge asked, eyes darting around the space wildly. The lethargy from before was thankfully gone, but from the looks of it, she had missed a lot. “Are we—?” 

“Captured?” Hunk finished, tone despondent. “Yeah.” 

“The bounty hunters—?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. “We’re in a holding cell on their ship.” 

She looked up at him, brow furrowing at his low tone. “I… would have thought you’d be a lot more freaked out about this.” 

“Oh, I’m beyond freaked out right now,” Hunk said, his voice shaking just enough for Pidge to hear the undertone of fear. “I’ve been freaked out since the market. But that Unlao creep did something to knock you out, and then he shoved you in a cargo box and just left, so I _had_ to go with them or else you’d be all alone, and it’s been like two _hours_ , Pidge. I only have so much energy to actively freak out with.”

“Two _hours_?” Pidge asked. She lifted a hand to rub at the side of her face, but the slime had apparently dried out. The remnants flaked off in her hand. “Ugh, it was that gross slime from his tentacles. It made me all woozy.” 

“At least you’re awake now,” Hunk said. He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes in apparent relief. “I was really starting to get worried.” 

“I bet,” Pidge murmured. She shivered again, drawing her attention to her outfit, and her eyes went wide. “What the— did they take our armor?” 

She was wearing her black undersuit and nothing else, leaving even her feet bare. A quick glance showed that Hunk was in the same state. She drew her feet up from the cold floor, but that only made her more aware of her precarious position on Hunk’s lap, and she bit back a pang of anxiety. _He’s not thinking that,_ no one _is thinking that; this isn’t some stupid middle school hallway._ Nonetheless, she awkwardly shifted to the side and maneuvered herself to sit on the floor by his side, though she immediately regretted the absence of warmth. 

“Yeah,” Hunk replied. If he noticed her awkwardness, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked up at the cell door. “They’re keeping our stuff in a bin on the main deck.” 

Pidge looked over at Hunk, reading the irritation in his tone. She could just make out swelling around his eye in the dim light from the hallway. Brow furrowing, Pidge said, “You’re hurt.” 

“So are you,” Hunk replied, glancing at her bruised wrist. It ached at the mention. “Today really isn’t going well.”

“Understatement,” Pidge said, forcing a laugh. Then, taking a deep breath to bolster herself, she said, “Okay. Game time. What do we know?” 

“There are four of them,” Hunk answered. “Unlao, Veera, frickin’ _Zzipteh_ , and some pilot I didn’t catch the name of. She kind of looked like Captain Olia from the rebellion, so maybe she’s from the same planet? Unlao and Veera seem like they’re the most dangerous, though. She’s a pretty good fighter, and he has all those tentacles.” 

“What about their ship?” 

“Pretty small—only three decks,” Hunk said. “Looks like a refurbished Galra ship to me. All the piloting stuff is on the top deck, and we’re stuck down here at the bottom with a lot of the engineering spaces.” 

“That’s convenient,” Pidge mused. “If we can get out of the cell, that is. Have they been posting a guard?” 

“Not that I’ve seen,” replied Hunk, “but I don’t think they were that worried after they took our armor and stuff. Without our Paladin tech, we’re not really that intimidating.” 

“Shows what they know,” Pidge replied, just to be petulant. Hunk rewarded her quip with a small smile. “What about escape pods?” 

“I think there were a couple at the end of the hall on this deck. But we have to figure out how to get out of this cell first. They used some kind of electronic code, so unless we figure out how to short-circuit it, we’re stuck here.” 

“We’ve gotten around that kind of security before,” Pidge mused, looking up at the cell door. It was barren of most marks that doors on Earth normally had, missing both hinges and a doorknob, but a year in space had prepared Pidge for that sort of seamless manufacturing. In fact, compared to the Castle of Lions, this door looked practically low-tech. 

“Not without our armor,” Hunk pointed out, lingering anxiety clear in his voice. 

“Any chance they left a convenient access panel for us?” 

“Nope,” Hunk confirmed. “No hidden keys either, unless I’m severely underestimating the functionality of this cell. But I doubt it.” 

“That’s just pessimistic,” Pidge replied, trying for teasing but falling flat. She sighed and pulled her legs up to hug against her chest, bare feet cold against the floor. “So, what, we just need to break out of the cell, recover our armor, steal an escape pod, and signal the Castle for a pickup?” 

“Yeah,” Hunk said, barking a low laugh. “Just like that. Easy-peasy.” 

Pidge grinned at him. “You’re starting to sound like Lance.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Hunk said, raising his eyebrows at her. “We do have one thing going for us. Lance knows what happened.” 

“Really?” Pidge asked. “How? Were you able to call him?” 

“Something like that,” Hunk explained. “I turned on the communicator just after Veera attacked me. Lance heard the whole capture. I know he did, because I could hear him swearing in the background when he realized he was too far away to help us before Unlao took you away.” 

“So we might just need to bide our time?” Pidge suggested. It wasn’t the first time either of them had weathered captivity waiting for a rescue. It made for a boring experience, but Pidge would rather be bored and safe than otherwise. 

“Maybe,” Hunk said. “It depends if Lance was able to pinpoint what ship the bounty hunters were on.” 

“Could he track our suits?” 

“Only if they didn’t set up some kind of disruption barrier,” Hunk said. “Unfortunately, Unlao strikes me as the type of bounty hunter that comes prepared for that sort of thing. The others might just be going on a wild goose chase.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Pidge said. She sighed and leaned against Hunk, rubbing the goosebumps on her arm. “But unless you’re holding out on me, it seems like waiting it out is probably our best call for now. I doubt we’re gonna get those doors open through brute force.” 

“Probably not,” Hunk sighed. Then, with a half smile, he said, “But hey, you’re awake now. That’s progress.” 

“It’s always better to freak out together,” Pidge agreed, managing a return grin despite the dread building in her heart. 

There wasn’t much more they could do but wait.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before their captors came to visit and Pidge got her first real look at the leader of the pack. 

Unlao stood taller than the rest, his black skin shiny and sleek like an octopus. His arms and legs were composed of a series of interlocking tentacles that moved about independently, flashing green suckers as they went. His eyes were little more than green slits on the sides of his face.

Veera and Zzipteh flanked him, looking respectively brawny and scrawny. They aimed guns at Hunk and Pidge, warning them against standing up or making any sudden moves. The mysterious pilot was not there, but Pidge figured she was probably busy doing her job. 

“Well,” Unlao said, voice sly, “You both look much less impressive without your armor.” 

Neither Pidge nor Hunk said anything, tension thick in the air. Pidge took the opportunity to scan their captors for anything they might be able to use. Ignoring the guns—which both looked like old Galra models, probably obtained illegally on the black market—Pidge’s eyes locked on the displays Veera and Zzipteh wore on their arms. They looked like less sophisticated versions of her own gauntlet, which probably made them the best option for hacking. It took her a few moments to locate Unlao’s display, but she soon realized that he wore an even more complicated version as a belt over his simple tan robes. 

“The Voltron Paladins aren’t particularly polite, are they?” Unlao murmured to his lackeys, noting the silence with a wave of one interlocking arm. 

“You kidnapped us,” Pidge said flatly. 

“Yeah,” Hunk added. “You realize we’re like, the main thing standing against the Galra Empire, right? Don’t you want independence? Freedom from the Galra?” 

Veera barked a laugh, lips twisting awkwardly to avoid jarring the scabbed-over wound on her right cheek. Her gun didn’t waver. “Like we care about that alliance crap,” she said. 

“It doesn’t matter that much, really,” Unlao elaborated. His tentacles unwound in a fanlike wave before regrouping, a gesture Pidge couldn’t quite interpret. Based on his tone, it was probably something like a shrug. “Every ruler is corrupt in their own way. At least with the Galra Empire, we already know how to exploit it.” 

“Case in point,” Veera added, gesturing toward them with her free arm. Her smirk was much easier to read. 

“So why are you even here?” Pidge asked, unable to mask her annoyance. “Just wanted to gloat that you managed to capture us?” 

“Yeah, it’s not like you’re the first ones who’ve tried,” Hunk muttered.

“Just the first who succeeded?” Zzipteh asked, wings buzzing briefly behind his head.

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“A wise sentiment,” Unlao said. “And your friends have certainly made our task more difficult than we originally estimated. It took a fair bit of maneuvering to get out of this star system with a pair of Voltron Lions on our tail.” 

Heart sinking, Pidge exchanged a worried look with Hunk. It didn’t bode well if their captors had managed to evade active pursuit from the Lions. 

Noting their concern, Zzipteh gloated, “Zzipteh told you, did he not? The Voltron Lions are well known. Makes them a bit predictable.” 

“If you think they’re going to give up, you’re fooling yourself,” Pidge snapped back, crossing her arms and trying not to feel petulant about it. 

“If they managed to track Sepsuni’s flight patterns, I’d be surprised,” Veera said to Zzipteh, ignoring Pidge’s interjection with a cocky laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Unlao said, waving the tentacles of one arm impatiently. “We’re not here to gloat. Zzipteh, if you would?” 

For the first time, Pidge noticed that Zzipteh was carrying a satchel resting against his hip. It blended in with his many layers of robes, looking like yet another shade of brown fabric. Still keeping aim on Pidge and Hunk with his weapon, Zzipteh reached into the bag and pulled out two silver circlets. 

Before Pidge could look closer, a tentacle grabbed her ankle and yanked her sharply forward. She barely had time to yelp before she was pulled upright by a pair of strong hands. Veera wrapped one beefy arm across her chest to pin her in place, leaving Pidge staring at Hunk, who had jumped to his feet as soon as the attack struck. 

She struggled against the grip, but froze when she felt cool metal press against her neck. It dug in just far enough to burn a paper-thin line of pain near her jaw. 

“Now,” Unlao said, addressing Hunk. “We’ve been through this before, Yellow. I trust you understand what will happen if you fight back.”

Hunk looked just as he had in the warehouse, stricken with helpless anger as his fists clenched by his side. Fury burned in her chest as Pidge saw the fear in his eyes; this made it _twice_ that she’d been used as a hostage against Hunk. She wanted to fight, but Veera was clearly well versed in knife work: the blade angled painfully along her neck, digging in deep enough to make Pidge think twice about moving.

“What do you want?” Hunk asked, tension clear in his shoulders as he stared at Unlao. His eyes kept darting to Pidge despite himself, biting his lip in worry. 

Unlao reached out and grabbed one of the metal circlets from Zzipteh’s grip, his many tentacles snagging on different points. He glided forward, using his other tentacles to push Hunk firmly against the wall. Once Hunk was securely pinned, Unlao brought the metal circlet up to his neck. 

Pushing Hunk’s chin back with two other tentacles, Unlao opened the circlet and locked it firmly around Hunk’s neck. It clicked shut with a disconcertingly cheery tune, like the finishing tone of a cooking timer. 

“We can’t run the risk of our prizes escaping,” Unlao murmured as he fiddled with the collar, which Pidge now realized was the true purpose of the metal circlet. He typed a few things into his belt display, looking between the two devices as he set up whatever commands he needed. 

Pidge gritted her teeth, hating the helpless feeling in her chest as she watched Hunk getting collared. She looked around desperately for something, _anything_ , that she could use to get free, but their barren cell was less than useful. She glared at Unlao, anger burning in her veins, and drew up short when she noticed something interesting on the back of his belt. 

The belt seemed to be made of bendable silicon, curving along his backside like fitted leather, but the design wasn’t what caught Pidge’s eye. Rather, she pinged on a small device fitted neat into a divot in the belt itself. 

Keeping her head perfectly still against the blade on the side of her neck, Pidge looked down at the display braced on Veera’s arm. A quick glance told her that the display on Unlao’s detachable device mirrored the same design. 

_It’s a remote_ , she thought, the hint of a plan starting to form in the back of her mind.

Before she could contemplate her discovery any more, Unlao pulled back from Hunk, apparently finished with his configurations. 

“Next,” Unlao said to Zzipteh, reaching an arm out for the second collar. 

Veera released Pidge, stepping back to allow Unlao room to work, and Pidge felt a jolt of adrenaline run down her spine as the opportunity to attack struck her. She reached out, hoping to snatch the remote from Unlao’s belt. 

Hunk lunged forward at the same time, apparently responding to the same instinct as Pidge. He was fast enough to shove Unlao back, unintentionally ruining any chance for Pidge to snag the remote. However, before Pidge could reroute her attack, Veera grabbed her arm and yanked her back sharply. 

In the same moment, Unlao rocked back, off-balance but still upright. Maintaining his cool demeanor, he pressed a button on his belt display. 

Hunk suddenly seized as a low buzz filled the air, crying out painfully before collapsing against the wall. Pidge stared in horror as he trembled, jaw clenched and muscles tight with pain. 

“Stop it!” she shouted, wrestling against Veera’s grip. “Stop! You’re hurting him!” 

In the next moment, the buzz cut off. Hunk slumped to the ground, eyes sliding shut, but he stopped shuddering. 

“Thank you,” Unlao said, “for giving me the opportunity to demonstrate our restraint collars. You will find that any future incidents will be much worse.” 

Without further comment, Unlao turned to face Pidge, blocking Hunk from view. She glared up at him, a flare of hot anger lit in her gut. Any thought of quietly escaping was now eclipsed by a very clear image of paying Unlao back for his actions. 

“You’re going to regret that,” Pidge promised, cold anger in her voice. 

Unlao regarded her with the sort of amusement generally saved for unruly children. “Your turn,” he said calmly, ignoring her threat as he reached toward her neck. 

Pidge jerked back, but Veera’s grip on her arms kept her in place. A pair of tentacles pushed her chin back and held her firmly as Unlao latched the collar around her neck. He fiddled with the device for a few moments before releasing her head, stepping back with a low hum of approval. 

“I hope we won’t have any more foolish escape attempts,” Unlao said, his tone nearly conversational. He gestured at Hunk, who was watching them through watery eyes, still half-collapsed on the ground. “I assure you that I won’t be giving warnings next time.” 

As though on cue, Veera shoved Pidge forward. She stopped herself from colliding face first into the steel wall, but it was a close call. By the time Pidge whirled around to face them, their captors had exited the cell, the door sliding shut behind them. 

Pidge bit back a curse, opting to kneel down and check on Hunk. “Are you okay?” she asked, eyes growing wide as Hunk spat blood onto the floor. “Oh god, you’re bleeding!” 

“I bit my tongue,” Hunk explained, wincing as he wiped at his mouth. “Sorry, that’s kind of gross—” 

“Not really my concern here,” Pidge replied. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just rattled,” Hunk said. He shook his head and smoothed down a few strands of hair that were standing on end. “I think it was an electric shock. Felt worse than your bayard, but you’ve never shocked me in the neck, so who knows?” 

“I hope I’ve never hit you as hard as that,” Pidge said, frowning at the way Hunk’s hands shook. 

“Probably high voltage, low amps. All of the pain, none of the heart-stopping terror,” said Hunk, with the morbid humor of an experienced mechanic. He prodded the skin near the collar with his fingertips. “Does it look burnt at all?” 

“No,” Pidge replied, examining his neck. The collar was sleek and plain, clearly designed to resist manipulation by manual means. “But the blood—are you sure?” 

“It’s just my tongue,” Hunk said, waving a hand at her weakly. “It hurts, but there’s not much to do about it. Besides, you’re bleeding, too.” 

“Barely,” Pidge replied, wiping at the thin cut on her neck. “The tentacles weren’t slimy like before and I don’t feel numb or anything, so hopefully we’re not going to pass out.”

“Maybe he can choose when to use it,” Hunk suggested. “Like a hunting mechanism or something.” 

“That’d be so cool if he wasn’t the jerk who kidnapped us,” Pidge admitted, sighing. She sat down beside Hunk, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Guess now we know what these stupid collars are for.” 

“Still feeling optimistic?” Hunk asked, giving her a sidelong look. When Pidge met his gaze, frown deepening, he managed an ironic smirk. “At least we know the others are looking for us.” 

Considering their chances, Pidge recalled the discovery she’d just made. 

“Actually,” she said, the barest hint of hope in her voice, “We might have even more than that.”

 

* * *

 

They had a plan. 

Well. Sort of. 

“Okay, but what if Unlao doesn’t let me get close to him?” Hunk asked, revisiting his numerous reservations about their plan for roughly the third time.

Pidge shrugged. “We’ll have to take our chances when they come.” 

“Yeah, but the whole plan kind of depends on me getting close enough to distract him,” Hunk argued. “What if he stays back? What if—what if none of them get close enough? They don’t have any reason to visit us down here, Pidge. What if that was it? They haven’t even given us food, what if they never do? What about water? We need water at least every two days to _survive_ , Pidge. We could die of dehydration before I get to distract _anyone_.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just die then,” Pidge replied, regarding Hunk’s anxious expression with deadpan eyes. 

“Not funny,” Hunk said with a long-suffering glare, holding his clenched fists close to his chest. 

“Every plan is going to have uncertainty, Hunk.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he threw back. Then, heaving a sigh, Hunk added, “Besides, there’s at least a little real worry there. These guys are bounty hunters. What reason do they have to come back down here? It’s not like they care about Voltron.” 

“It’s a long shot, yeah, but what other options do we have?” Pidge asked. She couldn’t help the nerves plucking at her heart, despite trying to stubbornly cling to optimism. “It does mean they’ll probably feed us at some point, though. We’re no use to Zarkon if we’re dead.” 

Hunk shuddered at the mention of Zarkon, frown deepening. Pidge couldn’t blame him. Neither of them had direct run-ins with the Galra emperor, like Shiro or Keith, but his reputation alone was enough to spark dread. 

Pidge watched as Hunk wrapped his arms around his knees, curling up in the same position she had adopted when she first woke up in their cell. It looked surprisingly endearing, like he was trying very hard to make himself smaller despite easily being over twice her size. Less endearing were the lines of worry that creased his forehead. 

“Hey,” Pidge said, reaching out and laying a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. She wasn’t quite sure how to continue, and silence lingered between them for a few awkward seconds before she managed to say, “It’ll… be okay?” 

Hunk glanced up at her, a skeptical expression overcoming the concern in his eyes. “You’re really bad at comforting people, aren’t you?” 

“There’s a reason all my friends growing up were robots,” Pidge admitted. 

Hunk laughed at that, a low chuckle that managed to lighten the air. Shaking his head, he said, “We really should enroll you and Keith into some kind of Emotional Support group.” 

“That sounds _awful_ ,” Pidge replied. “Would it just be me and Keith shut in a room talking about our feelings or something? Because I promise you, that would go nowhere. We would stay silent just to spite you all.” 

“I’d give you five minutes before you banded together and escaped.” 

“Five minutes?” Pidge asked. “I can hack those doors in under ten seconds, Hunk, c’mon. Give me some credit here.” 

Hunk grinned, clearly picturing the scene, but Pidge could still see the tension in his shoulders. Frowning, she suggested, “Look, why don’t you get some rest? You just got shocked—your body probably needs to relax for a bit. I’ll stay up to warn us if they come back, but we should rest while we can.” 

“I can take first watch if you want to sleep—” Hunk began, but Pidge cut him off. 

“No, no, I got like two hours of unintentional knock-out sleep, I’m good,” she said, waving a hand at him. “Really. Take a nap, and then I’ll sleep when you wake up. We’ll be better able to escape if we’re well rested.” 

“I guess,” Hunk said, shifting around on the hard ground. “It’s not going to be easy on this floor.” 

“You can use my leg as a pillow,” Pidge offered. “Can’t help the cold, though.” 

“It’s all right, I’m a big guy,” Hunk replied, cracking a grin. “We’re always warm.” 

“Lucky,” Pidge said, adjusting her position so Hunk could more comfortably rest against her legs. She crossed her legs and tucked her icy toes gratefully into the crease behind her knees. “I mean, I know you’re lying because that’s not how thermodynamics works, but still.” 

“That could be how space thermodynamics works, who knows?” 

“Now you’re just trying to annoy me.” 

“Maybe,” Hunk said. He seemed less tense as he lay down on the ground, head resting gingerly on the folded cross of Pidge’s calves. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly trying to relax, but only a few seconds passed before he blinked them open again. “Wait a minute. Are you just trying the human version of a hard reboot?” 

After some hesitation, Pidge said, “Well—I mean—you don’t have to _phrase_ it that way.”

“You are so bad at this, I swear,” Hunk muttered, laughing to himself. 

“Just close your eyes and go to sleep,” Pidge commanded, pulling a face and glaring down at him until he complied, still grinning. 

As Hunk tried to sleep, Pidge leaned against the cold cell wall and considered their options. The others were definitely searching for them, but if the bounty hunters had already escaped the star system, it made their chances for rescue much harder. She remembered reading that the first 48 hours of a kidnapping were the most important. By Pidge’s estimate, they were still solidly in the early stages, but every second put more distance between them and the Castle of Lions. She knew all too well how difficult finding missing people in space could be. Even her discovery of Matt was aided by a good helping of luck. 

She sighed as she tried to steel herself against despair. They had a plan. It was a risky plan with far more variables than she generally liked, but it meant they weren’t hopeless. The Castle of Lions was chasing their captors, they had an escape plan, and neither of them was incapacitated. All things considered, things were falling in their favor. 

_Besides_ , she thought, a bit sarcastically, _worse comes to worst, our Lions might be able to find us if our lives are in serious danger_. 

Then, as if to push down any burgeoning optimism, she couldn’t help but think, _that doesn’t mean they’ll be able to help._ If the Lions were too far away, it didn’t matter how well they could sense their Paladins. They’d be dead long before rescue came. 

The sound of Hunk snoring cut through Pidge’s dark thoughts. She looked down at him, gratefully distracted, and marveled at his ability to sleep anywhere. Pidge’s hands and feet were already too cold for her to have any hope of easy rest, but Hunk had once fallen asleep standing up during an overnight survival exercise at the garrison, where the temperature dropped to near freezing. Lance always joked that it was Hunk’s superpower. 

_He’s a good-looking guy_ , came a thought unbidden as she watched Hunk sleep. Pidge froze at very idea of looking at Hunk like some twitterpated schoolgirl, memories of middle school flashing through her mind. It felt strangely disrespectful even if she was thinking nice things, like she was examining him as a stranger rather than her best friend. 

Pidge wasn’t entirely sure what she was _supposed_ to find attractive, but she admired Hunk’s strong jawline and warm brown eyes. Looks weren’t really a thing Pidge noticed too much, but she liked seeing Hunk smile and joke around or get giddy about some new food. So maybe she did find him attractive. Pidge tilted her head and considered the idea, trying to look at it through a critical lens. Did she have a crush on Hunk? She hadn’t realized that he had one on her, so it stood to reason that maybe she just wasn’t perceptive to crushes at all. Or was she just reacting to the idea that he had a crush on her?

Pidge frowned, staring down at Hunk’s sleeping face and feeling awkwardly voyeuristic about it. She imagined hugging or kissing him and felt her cheeks heat, but any thought of anything _more_ just made her feel cold. Not _wrong_ , exactly, just detached and clinical, which Pidge was fairly certain wasn’t the correct feeling for anything sexual. She’d heard girls at school giggling about going farther than kisses with boys; the wicked smiles on their faces seemed to suggest more than the blank discomfort that Pidge felt when she thought of sex. 

She had lived long enough to know what was and wasn’t considered particularly attractive by other people. She could tell that Lance really was a handsome guy, despite all his flirting and showmanship, and Shiro had a lot of well-defined muscles that people seemed to like. Allura was weirdly pretty in a way that even Pidge noticed, her face perfectly symmetrical and captivating. But despite the apparent objective beauty of others, Pidge had never felt drawn to anyone the way stories seemed to insist she should. The idea of getting naked with other people felt uninteresting and weird at best. 

Hunk wasn’t pretty like Allura or suave like Lance, but Pidge liked his appearance the most. He hid nothing behind his eyes, perfectly open and receptive to new things, and Pidge liked how solid and stable he felt. He usually smelled faintly sweet from cooking, of which Pidge had long been fond despite herself. It made her think of those peanut butter cookies, warm and welcoming on a night when everything seemed dark. 

As though he could feel her thoughts, Hunk coughed in his sleep and adjusted his head to lean against her other knee. The movement reminded Pidge how long she’d been watching him, and she hurriedly looked at the cell door instead. Her heart raced at the thought of being caught staring. 

Pidge shook off the embarrassed burn on her cheeks, forcing herself to think of something else. The ship hummed around them, a steady reminder of their increasing distance away from their friends, and Pidge determinedly refocused her thoughts on how they were going to get back to them. Limited or not, things weren’t completely hopeless just yet. She had a lot more important things to consider than whether or not she had a crush on Hunk. 

Despite her efforts, Pidge couldn’t help the warm feeling in her heart that seemed to whisper, _but what if—?_

 

* * *

 

_The air was crisp, full of chirping birds and rustling leaves. She stood motionless, surrounded by an energy that permeated the world around her, spreading out like endless vines until all was covered._

_She stood on the glimmering edge of a bubble, her very existence fragile and transient and achingly temporary._

_She opened her eyes to see nothing but green around her._  

A blast shook Pidge out of her tenuous rest and she blinked awake to the ship shaking. 

Her face was pressed against Hunk’s thigh, fingers tucked close to her chest to maintain as much body heat as she could. She could hardly feel her feet anymore.

“What was that?” she murmured, boggling over her disorientation. She’d tried to sleep after Hunk woke up for his shift, but the last thing she remembered was lying awake, shivering and unable to focus on anything but the cold. 

“Don’t know,” Hunk replied. He shifted as she started to sit up, snatching back the arm that had been propped around her shoulders to Pidge’s dismay. The cell seemed even colder now. “There’s been a lot of weird veering in the past hour.” 

“What time is it?”

“Maybe two hours after we switched? I don’t know, it’s hard to keep track.” 

A second blast hit the ship, rocking both of them against the back wall with a bang. She tucked tighter against Hunk’s side, not trusting the random movements, and was relieved when his arm returned to grip around her shoulders. The shaking died down within a few seconds, but they stayed tense, waiting for future strikes with wide eyes. 

“Do you think it’s the others?” Hunk whispered. He had stretched his legs out to brace against the wall, limbs just long enough to achieve a stable hold. 

“I hope so,” Pidge replied. The ship shuddered again, metal creaking ominously as it made a sharp turn. “They’ll be hitting to disable, not destroy.” 

Another blast hit the ship and Pidge clenched her eyes shut, terror informing her thoughts as she followed her statement to the logical conclusion: _if it’s not Voltron, our odds of surviving just dropped significantly_. Taking this many direct hits was never a good sign. 

She and Hunk stayed ready, locked together to brace against more blows, but other than occasional shudders, the ship appeared to have figured out how to avoid the blasts. It zipped around quickly, momentum pushing them this way and that, but there were no more stressful strikes. 

After a few minutes of relative calm following the last sharp turn, Pidge loosened her grip on Hunk’s arm and tried to regain her bearings. “Did they lose them?” 

“Must have,” Hunk replied. He moved now that he no longer needed to hold himself against the wall, but his arm stayed draped around Pidge’s shoulders. “I can’t tell if I’m relieved or not.” 

“If it was the others, we’d be getting rescued,” Pidge said, a note of dismay in her tone. 

“Yeah, but if it wasn’t, we’d just be getting dead.” 

“Good point.” 

Thoroughly awake, Pidge wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin against her knees. She stayed pressed up against Hunk’s side, too comforted by their shared body heat to heed the part of her mind that warned against getting too close. She bit back her annoyance at the notion, wishing Matt had never said anything about Hunk’s alleged crush. Such a thing wouldn’t have even crossed her mind before, but now Pidge couldn’t help the thread of worry about making Hunk uncomfortable or sending weird signals or whatever. She had no idea what kind of signals she would be sending. She didn’t even know what kind of signals she _wanted_ to send. 

Pidge sighed in mild frustration, wishing—not for the first time—that Basic Human Interaction Manuals were a thing that existed. Robots were so much easier to understand. 

“You okay?” Hunk asked. 

Pidge blinked before realizing that he had heard her sigh. “Uh,” she said, scrambling. “It’s nothing. Just—annoyed at being here. Still.” 

Hunk stared at her for a bit before replying, “Yeah, I get that.” 

A loud bang cut through the brief silence that followed, making them both jump. Hunk and Pidge exchanged glances as the sound of footsteps stomped closer to them at a quick pace. As one, they stood up and stared at the cell door in anticipation. 

The cell slid open and Veera strode into their cell, her eyes as angry as the red scab on her cheek. Before either of them could move, she shoved Pidge out of the way and pushed Hunk up against the wall, her sharp blade flashing dangerously by his neck. 

“Hey!” Pidge cried, but she was scarcely able to react before familiar tentacles gripped her arms. Unlao slithered into the room after Veera and pressed Pidge face first against the wall, his tentacles pinning her down. To her alarm, other tentacles began to slide up and down along her limbs. She stifled a scream as she felt tentacles slide across her chest and down her sides, shuddering at the creepy feeling that crawled down her spine. 

“Leave her alone!” she heard Hunk shout, followed by a hissed curse from Veera. Pidge stayed frozen against the wall, struggling uselessly against the touch of Unlao’s many limbs. 

“Calm down,” Unlao muttered, irritation clear in his tone. His examination continued for a few more seconds before he huffed in annoyance and cast Pidge aside, throwing her to the ground with no more than a passing glance. 

Pidge scrambled to her feet as soon as she hit the ground, still shaking from the invasive search. In the corner, Unlao seemed to be performing the same type of exam on Hunk, though he needed Veera to help keep Hunk pinned. 

_Hunk’s stronger than them_ , Pidge realized, standing forgotten behind their two captors. She met Hunk’s gaze as he endured Unlao’s search, trying to see if he had reached the same conclusion. Zzipteh said the group had done their research. _That’s why they keep using me as a hostage. They know Hunk can take them, so they need leverage._  

She couldn’t tell if Hunk figured it out or not, but as he stared back at her with equal intensity, Pidge suddenly knew that this was their moment. Unlao and Veera weren’t watching her at all, too concerned with making sure that Hunk stayed pinned. She looked over at Unlao and saw the remote still locked in its spot on his belt. 

Pidge glanced back at Hunk and nodded. 

Hunk moved instantly, yanking his arm away from Unlao’s grip and shoving Veera’s dagger away from his neck in one quick motion. He pushed them both back a few paces, launching off the wall with a forceful show of strength. 

Pidge knew it wouldn’t last. Unlao had a grip on all of Hunk’s limbs and Veera was strong enough to hold him at bay, but Hunk didn’t have to win. He only needed to shove Unlao into Pidge just long enough for her to snatch the remote off his belt, the speed of the attack helping to disguise the theft. She tripped on Unlao’s tentacles as Hunk shoved him back once more, tucking the remote up her sleeve as she tumbled to the ground. 

As predicted, Veera regained her bearing and pushed Hunk back into the wall, snarling. A short buzz filled the air. Pidge winced as Hunk cried out, his resistance faltering under the electric shock. She tried to stand up, but a set of tentacles suddenly pinned her down, pushing her flat against the ground. 

“What did I say about fighting back, Yellow?” Unlao hissed. Their captors were standing very close to Hunk but Pidge could only see their legs. A tentacle kept her head pressed to the cold floor. 

Hunk said nothing, still breathing heavily from the shock. 

“Anything?” Veera asked. 

“Neither of them have any trackers that I could find,” Unlao said. “Like I said, Zzipteh scanned them both before coming on board. They’re as clean as their armor. It’s unlikely to be something mechanical.” 

“There’s no way they could track Sepsuni’s path!” Veera protested. “They have to be emitting a signal of some kind. She’s the best for a _reason_.” 

“We knew Voltron would be a challenge,” Unlao replied. “Time for your pilot to prove her worth, Veera. As for right now… hold him.” 

Pidge frowned, unable to see anything as Veera stepped even closer to Hunk. She heard Hunk take a sharp intake of breath and she froze in sudden, terrified worry. 

“I warned you, Yellow,” Unlao said, his voice little more than a whisper, “but you don’t seem to care about your own well-being. Maybe this will help.” 

The very next instant, pain struck Pidge like a sledgehammer. She felt herself go rigid, the world in burning hell around her. She was screaming without sound, every cell alive with pain, blood boiling in her veins. She couldn’t move. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as the ordeal continued, like being burned alive in an endless loop of agony, all capacity to resist torn away. 

It lasted forever. It felt like she was going insane with pain. She wanted to scream but could barely breathe, muscles contracting without end, a thousand times worse than the worst broken bone she’d ever suffered. It was like being torn apart from the inside. 

It ended abruptly, leaving Pidge with nothing but her own ragged sobs. Her ears buzzed, blocking out all other sound. She could feel her heart racing, hands shaking against her chest. Even if she hadn’t still been pinned down, Pidge doubted she’d be able to move. She could barely breathe. 

As she trembled, the tentacles pinning her down slid away. Sound filtered back through her ears just in time to hear the door slide shut with a hiss, and Pidge suddenly found herself being gathered up into warm arms.

“Oh god, Pidge—are you okay?” Hunk said. He sounded wretched. “That was so long— please, please say something, oh man—” 

“Ow,” Pidge managed, looking up at Hunk through bleary eyes. His eyes were red beneath furrowed brows, staring down at her with worry etched clearly on his face. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hunk stammered. “I didn’t think that he’d—I thought he’d just shock me again, not— that was like a _minute_ , oh my god, is your heart okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” Pidge said. The effect of the shock was beginning to fade, leaving her shaken and exhausted but relatively functional. She managed a small grin at Hunk. “Like you said, high voltage and low amps. Like a super taser. Ouch.” 

Hunk prodded the area around the collar, sending a flare of pain down her throat. “Your neck looks burnt. That’s—I mean, that’s something you’d go to the hospital for normally—”

“I’m fine,” Pidge said. It was a struggle to sit up, but with Hunk’s help she was able to slump against the wall. “Well—okay, not _fine_ , but it’s not like we can go to the hospital. I’ll live. Give me a couple minutes and I’ll be good to go.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Hunk, still examining her neck with a pained expression on his face. “I had no idea that he’d hurt you—” 

“What, like him shocking you is any better?” Pidge asked, glaring at him. “We knew it was a risky plan.” 

Hunk frowned at her. Begrudgingly, he muttered, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Pidge shrugged and focused on trying to stop her hands from trembling. She grinned as she caught sight of the bulge hidden underneath her sleeve. Pulling out the prize, she held it up for Hunk to see. 

“Maybe not,” Pidge said, examining the stolen remote with relish. “But I’d say it was worth it.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” 

“No,” Pidge admitted, still rattled, “but the longer we wait, the more chance they have of figuring out the remote is missing. Our odds are better if we leave now.” 

Hunk bit his lip, brow still knitted as he examined the remote. “And you definitely know how to deactivate these collars?” 

“Do you want the honest answer or the warm-fuzzy answer?” 

“Okay, on that note, can I just say—right here—that I really, genuinely regret following you and Lance the night we found the Blue Lion? I just want to be clear about that before we start our little suicide mission.” 

“It’s a whirlwind adventure?” Pidge offered, shrugging. 

“So much regret,” Hunk concluded, looking up at the ceiling and heaving a sigh. Then, setting his jaw with an air of determination, he held out the remote and said, “Okay, let’s do it. Get this torture collar off me.” 

“Right, hold on,” Pidge said, snatching the remote from his hands. Some of the symbols were unfamiliar, but at least half of them had been copied from standard Galran script. Combined with her memory of the keystrokes that Unlao used, Pidge had reasoned out a working theory for disengaging the collars. 

Despite her theory, her nerves were on edge as she stared up at Hunk. She hesitated above the first keystroke, the image of Hunk seizing from a shock fresh in her mind. Her fingers were still shaking slightly from her own brush with torture, prompting a useless string of worry. What if she triggered another shock instead? What if she couldn’t turn it off? Her imagination needed very little help to spin into a number of different disasters.

“ _Pidge_ ,” Hunk prodded, anxiety clear in his tone. 

“Right,” Pidge said, trying to muster a confidence she didn’t feel. Taking a deep breath, she began inputting the instructions on the remote. A tiny screen at the top of the remote helped guide her in Galran. _That’s one stroke of luck, at least_ , Pidge thought, despite only having a minor grasp on the language. It was better than nothing. 

The first attempt didn’t yield any results. 

The second made the collar turn ice cold. Hunk yelped, more startled than hurt, but Pidge hastily backtracked without much issue. 

Finally, on her third try, the collar around Hunk’s neck snapped open with a low ding. He snatched it from his neck and threw it to the ground, giving a low, “Whoo!” of victory. 

Pidge grinned back at him and immediately worked to free herself as well. She gingerly removed her collar once it clicked open, avoiding the hot burn on her throat with a wince. 

Once the collars were both safely discarded in the corner, Pidge tapped a few more potential combinations in the remote to try and open the cell. This time, it only took two tries for the metal door to slide open. The hallway outside their cell was dark, lit only with familiar purple lights to help guide the way. 

_Definitely a refurbished Galra ship_ , Pidge thought, making a face at the purple tones. 

“Okay, the escape pod will probably open with the same combination,” Pidge said, handing over the remote. “First the blue, then yellow, and then hit that weird squiggly one at the bottom. It should be easy for you after that.” 

“Yeah, I’ve seen these old Galra models before,” Hunk said. “I can hotwire the start-up from the main console. But are you sure we should split up?” 

“No, but we don’t have a lot of time. And we can’t leave without our armor,” Pidge replied. At Hunk’s worried expression, she said, “Hey, don’t worry. Like you said: old Galra ship. I have tons of experience sneaking around these. I’ll be quick.” 

Hunk didn’t look heartened, but he nodded anyway. Then he grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, reminding Pidge of the parting of ways before their last fight with Zarkon. 

“Stay safe,” Hunk said. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’ll—” 

“I’ll be back,” Pidge cut him off, not wanting to have that conversation. Not now. Logically, the best decision would be for Hunk to leave anyway. Pidge knew it, and she knew that Hunk knew it too, but she knew that logic and practicality wouldn’t matter to Hunk if it meant leaving Pidge behind. He’d make the wrong choice, the irrational one, and then neither of them would escape. 

Pidge didn’t want to talk about that. Not when she knew that she’d do the exact same stupid thing. 

Hunk stared back at her, the look in his eyes telling Pidge that he knew precisely what she wasn’t saying. He released her hand and mustered a grin. “Good luck.” 

“You too,” Pidge replied. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she darted out the door and headed toward the far stairwell.

The layout of the ship actually worked in their favor. Based on Hunk’s observations, all of the engineering spaces shared the bottom deck with their cell and the two escape pods, giving Hunk plenty of cover noise for any hotwiring he might need to do. The bounty hunters seemed to be working with a skeleton crew, so it was entirely possible that no one would disturb him in the few minutes it took to break into the escape pod. If everything went to plan, they might be able to launch from the ship before any of their captors realized they’d even escaped their cell. 

Unfortunately, Pidge’s task brought her up to the bridge on the main deck, which was decidedly more risky. 

Pidge crept up the metal stairwell slowly, stepping lightly to avoid any unnecessary noise. It was narrow for a Galra ship, with stairs leading up through portholes to each new deck. As she peeked her head over the metal grate onto the second deck, Pidge was relieved to see an empty stretch of hallway, lights similarly dimmed. 

Not wanting to waste her luck, Pidge pulled herself up through the porthole, wincing and adjusting her grip as her injured wrist complained. She scampered up to the main deck, listening all the while for any sign of their captors. Other than the noise from the engine, the ship seemed strangely quiet. As she reached the next porthole, Pidge saw the same darkness in the halls of the main deck, with only the bridge at the end of the passageway lit clearly. She froze upon seeing the brighter lights, but she couldn’t hear any other signs of the crew. 

For a brief moment, she was confused by the lack of activity, but then it struck her: it was _nighttime_. She and Hunk had been taken in the afternoon, and it had been hours since then. And while Pidge’s brain immediately supplied a number of caveats to her assumptions— there wasn’t actually day or night in space, and there was no telling what kind of sleep cycles were followed by their alien captors— it stood to reason that most of the bounty hunters were likely trying to get some sleep. 

Pidge grinned, feeling a bit of the tension in her shoulders ease away. This might be easier than she thought. 

Regardless, she pulled herself up through the porthole as quietly as she could, making sure to keep her ears open for any new sounds. Luck or not, there was no point in taking unnecessary risks. 

Eying the long hallway to the bridge, Pidge began to look around for an alternative path. Walking through the main doors would basically be daring them to catch her. Luckily, she recognized this class of Galra ship. The metal panels along the side had been painted different colors, but she had to assume that the ventilation system was still in line with regulations. Darting to the right side of the passageway, Pidge was gratified to see a removable cover for the vents, right where it should be. 

Pidge carefully removed the cover and ducked into the shaft. It was filthy with built-up dust and dirt, forcing Pidge to cover her mouth to avoid triggering a coughing fit. No armor made maneuverability a little easier, but she would definitely rather have the convenience of a face visor to block out the dust. 

The ventilation shaft was nearly pitch black, but Pidge could see brighter light streaming in from the vents further down the way. She crawled as quietly as she could, ever aware of their dwindling time limit. Every minute increased the chances of their escape being discovered. 

As she drew closer to the vent at the end of the shaft, Pidge began to hear muffled voices from the bridge. 

“—n’t understand how they keep trailing us,” an unfamiliar voice was lamenting with an air of frustration. “Every time I run the scans, it shows we should be in the clear.” 

“I know, _bleti_ ,” another voice replied, which Pidge immediately placed as Veera. “But even with their trackers, you’ve evaded them twice. You can do it again, even if they find us. Unlao is just being paranoid.”

“I’m still going to stay on the bridge,” the other woman replied. “I can’t risk them surprising us again.” 

“You know that’s not good for you—” 

“Yeah, yeah, Vee-ah, I know,” she countered, laughing. “I’ll be fine for a night or two. It won’t take that long to reach the rendezvous point.” 

Pidge finally reached the end of the shaft and peered out through the vent slits. Given the angle, she could only see the bottom third of the bridge, but the position of the vent was otherwise ideal. Directly across from the vent, she could see Veera hovering by the pilot’s chair, casually leaning on the console that lined the far wall. Another crewmember—the unseen pilot Sepsuni, Pidge assumed—was sitting in the chair facing away from the vent. Pidge could see her furry hands occasionally adjusting settings on the display. 

Pidge scanned the rest of the bridge trying to locate their missing armor. It only took a few moments to spot two large mesh bags in the corner with distinctive white armor stacked inside. For a brief moment, she felt victorious, but her elation was immediately crushed by the realization that she’d never be able to pull the bags through the ventilation shaft. 

Dread filled her heart. The only way out would have to be through the main entry to the bridge. 

“I can help keep you company,” Veera offered, sounding much more pleasant than the growling woman who’d threatened them with knives. 

“No, you need sleep,” Sepsuni replied, much to Pidge’s relief. It would be hard enough to sneak out the front door with one witness, much less two. “Don’t worry about me. This is hardly the first time I’ve been stuck on the bridge for a few days.” 

Veera made a vague noise of complaint, but seemed to concede the point. From her position in the vent, Pidge could only see her legs as Veera pushed off the console and slowly made her way off the bridge. The sound of her footsteps echoed from further down the ventilation shaft as she left. 

Pidge waited for a minute, eyeing the pilot’s chair with trepidation, but Sepsuni stayed seated. She was facing away from the vent and the bags of armor, but the main access to the bridge was fully visible from the pilot’s chair. Unless she fell asleep in the next few minutes—unlikely—Pidge would have to figure out another way to avoid getting caught. 

First things first: she needed to get their armor. 

With practiced familiarity, Pidge toggled the latch that kept the vent cover in place. She carefully removed the cover, going slowly to avoid any telltale scratching from the metal, and set it down gently beside the vent. She kept her eyes on the pilot’s chair all the while, ready to dart out if Sepsuni proved more observant than she thought. 

Pidge managed to crawl out of the shaft with little issue, quickly making her way over to the two bags of armor. Even one of them would be too cumbersome to drag through the ventilation shaft, and Pidge didn’t like her odds of swift movement if she tried to carry both. 

Luckily, the latter problem was easily solved. Pidge promptly opened the bag containing her armor and began to quietly reassemble it on her body. She eyed the pilot’s chair with each new piece of armor, starting with her bayard. If Sepsuni did take notice, she’d rather take her out quickly than potentially deal with the entire crew. 

_In fact_ , Pidge considered, _that might solve the other problem, too._  

Pidge finished dressing as quickly as she could. However, once she was finished, she left the bag of Hunk’s armor where it was and crept up to the pilot’s chair. Sepsuni was still messing with the display, apparently trying to improve their early warning capabilities based on the few screens that Pidge could see. 

Taking a deep breath, Pidge darted forward, bayard held ready. The sudden movement drew Sepsuni’s gaze, her eyes growing wide, but Pidge jabbed her in the side before she could do anything else. Her bayard crackled and Sepsuni jerked, gasping as she crumpled to the side. 

“Surprise,” Pidge muttered, smirking. A small part of her winced at the violence, still reeling from her own exposure to electric torture, but Pidge stubbornly shut it down. At least her attacks were over in a few seconds. 

_Besides_ , she thought as she ran back to the corner to retrieve Hunk’s armor, _they kidnapped us. Screw them._

Snatching up the bag, Pidge quickly darted out the main exit and made her way down the passageway. Though she still tried to be quiet, Pidge was focused more on speed as she jumped through the porthole and dashed down the stairs. Even if no one saw her, Sepsuni wouldn’t be out for long, making their time limit that much shorter. If they were lucky, the alarms wouldn’t start sounding until after they ejected.

As Pidge landed on the bottom deck, the sudden blare of alarms told her that their luck had run out. 

_SCREE! SCREE! SCREE!_  

Bright lights flashed from the ceiling, blinking in time with the alarms. 

“Shit!” Pidge cursed, giving up any attempt at stealth and running full out for the escape pods. 

She made it to the open pod in record speed, dashing inside and throwing Hunk’s bag of armor to the ground. 

“What happened?” Hunk asked, tension clear in his tone. The console beside him was open and multicolored wires spilled out in a tangled mess on the ground. 

“Long story, no time!” Pidge replied, jumping into the open pilot’s seat. “Tell me we’re good for takeoff.” 

“Yeah, good to go,” Hunk confirmed. “Just trying to put this back—” 

“Get your armor on first,” Pidge said. “It’s probably going to be a bumpy ride.” 

With that said, Pidge focused on the screen in front of her. Escape pods normally had very simple designs due to their purpose—no point in having an escape pod that only trained pilots could fly—but it still took some adjustment after flying the Green Lion for so long. Luckily, this wasn’t her first exposure to a Galran escape pod and Pidge began the start-up sequence with only a few hiccups. 

The door to the pod swung shut as the engine roared around them. As Hunk reattached the last of his armor, Pidge took a quick glance at the variety of displays in front of her. They were near three large celestial objects— a planet and its surrounding moons, if Pidge had to guess— but other than that, the bounty hunters’ ship seemed to be the only ship in the area. The alien planet was closest to them, visible even through the window of their escape pod. 

“Okay, I’m good,” Hunk said, securing the safety latch across his chest. He twisted in his seat, staring back out through the pod doors, and his voice got a panicky edge to it. “Uh, Pidge, we should go!” 

Behind her, Pidge heard a pounding sound on the metal. She didn’t bother to look back at whichever bounty hunter was trying to break in, opting to punch the throttle instead. 

The pod shot out of its dock like a slingshot, throwing Pidge backwards against the seat. Beside her, Hunk was yelling something incoherent as he braced himself against both seats. Pidge would have screamed if she could find the breath, but she was focused on the rapidly approaching planet in the display. 

“Oh god oh god oh god—” 

“How do I slow this down?” Pidge stammered, trying and failing to ease up on the gas. She had to fight the pod’s acceleration just to reach the display, her entire body vibrating along with the craft. She yanked on the lever again but it didn’t budge. “Hunk, I can’t move it!” 

“Shit, okay, here—” Hunk said, pulling himself forward with effort. He pulled on the lever, grunting as he tried to jar it loose, and Pidge felt her heart leap into her throat. They were going way too fast, heading directly for the planet. It looked impossibly large through the window, its swirling layers of atmosphere strikingly green against the black backdrop of space. 

After a few desperate tugs, Hunk managed to unstick the shaft. 

“Okay,” he said, drawing the speed back, “Okay, that should help—” 

Just then, something struck the escape pod with blistering force, making the entire pod jerk wildly as the lights flickered ominously. Pidge’s head nearly slammed against the console, stopped only by the safety harness around her waist. She gasped for air, her wind knocked out by the abrupt strike. 

When she finally regained her bearings, Pidge saw scorch marks covering half the window. Examining closer, she could just barely see twisted remnants of metal from the outside of the ship. 

“Did—did they just _fire_ on us?” Pidge asked, irrationally outraged. 

“Yeah, probably,” Hunk said, sounding rattled. 

“I thought they wanted us alive!” 

“I have no idea,” Hunk said, “but we need to move or we’re going to get sucked into this planet’s atmosphere!” 

Pidge instantly went to the console and tried to steer away, applying pressure on the throttle once again, but the escape pod wouldn’t turn. 

“It’s not working!” she cried. “I think the blast jacked up the steering!” 

“Oh shit, ease up on the gas, we’re going to hit—”

The escape pod shot toward the planet at a blistering speed. The sudden change in pressure sent the pod spinning and whirling through burning layers of atmosphere, it’s movements out of control as it hurtled down. 

Pidge clung to her seat and the console, trying desperately to regain her bearing as the world swirled around them. Hunk was still yanking on the throttle, doing his best to cut the gas even as they rocketed through the air. 

Hunk finally freed the throttle as they broke through the outer layers of the atmosphere, still spinning as they shot through the air.

“Oh my god, we’re gonna hit—!”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck—!” 

Holding herself steady on the console, Pidge desperately tried to enable the reverse thrusters to give them partial stability. By her side, Hunk was doing the same with auxiliary steering. 

The pod stopped spinning as wildly but they were still going too fast, and Pidge stared in horror as the swell of green rapidly rose to meet them. There’s no way they could stop before—

Darkness.

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

_The first time they went out as a team, Lance took them to a local bar and grill with low lighting and pop music blasting from the speakers._

_“All right, Pidge, I got your back. I’ll help you scope out the hottest chicks,” Lance said, like he was some sort of women connoisseur._

_“Uh,” Pidge replied, making a face. She had no idea where Lance had gotten the impression that she wanted help with any of that, but the very thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably. “No thanks?”_

_“No worries, man, I’m here to help,” Lance continued. He eyed a few girls at the bar that looked too old to be giggling at some random high school kid, but apparently Lance’s winks had that effect on people. “Oh wait—are you gay? Want to scope out the dudes? That’s cool, man, I gotchu. I’m sure there are other guys as hot as me hanging around.”_

_Flabbergasted, Pidge looked over at Hunk. “Is he serious right now?”_

_“Don’t mind Lance,” Hunk said, looking over the top of the menu at her and rolling his eyes. “He has a pipe dream of playing the Cupid character in some Hollywood rom-com.”_

_“Excuse you,” Lance protested. “One, it’s not a pipe dream. I’m a fantastic actor. And two, we agreed that I’d be playing the lead in some badass action flick with a hot costar.”_

_“Oh right, I forgot,” said Hunk. When Lance looked away, Hunk met Pidge’s eyes and mouthed “rom-com” with a knowing look._

_Despite everything, she grinned back at him._

* * *

 

A coughing fit jolted Pidge awake, air hot and ashy in her throat. 

She stared blankly ahead, too busy adjusting to her new reality to fully grasp the world around her. Nothing seemed broken, but Pidge felt rattled and sore as if she’d been picked up and tossed around by a giant. The straps around her torso were the only things holding her upright. 

_We… crashed?_ Pidge thought, looking blearily around the small area. The hull seemed to be relatively intact, but she could see a dim glow of light on the side where the crash had torn up the metal. 

The overall darkness flickered with occasional bursts of light as the console made half-hearted attempts to turn on. The remains of the escape pod were damaged and clearly unusable but otherwise structurally intact. Somewhere in the back of her head, Pidge marveled over the pod’s strong design despite her rising alarm. 

A brighter light in the corner broke Pidge from her dazed musings, drawing her eyes to a fire on the far side of the console. Her eyes grew wide as she saw electric sparks flicker above it threateningly. 

The danger was enough to snap Pidge into panic mode. She tore at her safety harness, looking around for Hunk. He was still out, slumped in his seat and way too close to the growing fire for her liking. As she unclipped her harness, Pidge called out, “Hunk!” 

He didn’t move. She worried that their communicators were damaged, but she didn’t dare remove her helmet before taking a scan of the atmosphere. Instead, she crawled out of her seat and grabbed his shoulders. 

Shaking them, Pidge said again, “Hunk, wake up! C’mon, Hunk, I need you to wake up now, there’s a fire—” 

She cut herself off and held up her gauntlet to scan him, heaving a sigh of relief when it showed no severe injuries. He seemed to be breathing fine. Heartened by the scan, Pidge kept prodding him, practically shouting, “Hunk! Hunk, wake up!” 

She glanced nervously at the slowly building fire nearby. There was no way she’d be able to lift Hunk out of here. She bit back a frustrated curse at the unfairness of her size. Hunk could literally bench press _two_ of her and she couldn’t move him five feet.

Desperately, Pidge started shaking Hunk even harder. “Hunk, _seriously_ , wake up! We have to get out of here!” 

After a few more seconds, Hunk scrunched his face up and blinked blearily at her. Confused, he said, “…Pidge?” 

“Oh, thank god,” Pidge said in relief. “We have to go!” 

“Go?” Hunk asked, still trying to catch his bearings. He looked around and immediately locked on the fire in the corner. Pidge saw his eyes grow almost comically wide. “Oh shit, there’s a fire—!” 

“Yep, got that, _we need to leave_ ,” Pidge repeated, working at his safety straps.

It only took a few more seconds to release the belt. Hunk shrugged out of the harness, moving with the same soreness that Pidge could feel in her bones. They both stumbled away from the pilot chairs, trying to maneuver in the small space without colliding with jutting pieces of metal from the crash. Pidge only needed to crouch, but in some spaces Hunk was forced to crawl. 

Pidge followed the dim circle of light to the hole in the hull. The crash had practically destroyed the door. Most of it had fused with the rest of the hull, metal crumpled in on metal, but the bottom half of the doorway was gaping open, letting soft light stream through. 

The gap was hardly large enough to let Pidge slip through, much less Hunk, but Pidge didn’t slow down. Her bayard flared to life as she set it to its highest level. It wasn’t nearly as effective as Shiro’s Galra arm, but Pidge had used her bayard to cut through metal before—albeit nothing quite as advanced as this. 

She began to saw at the damaged part of the door as Hunk kept watch on the fire behind them. The metal groaned from her efforts, slowly melting under her makeshift torch, and Pidge could feel the heat from the focused electricity through her armor.

“Uh, Pidge?” Hunk asked from behind her. “Pidge, the fire is getting pretty big—” 

“My bayard isn’t exactly built for metal this thick,” Pidge replied. She adjusted her angle to cut through the main section of mangled metal. “Gimme another minute.” 

“Yeah, okay, it’s just—my seat just caught fire,” Hunk reported. “So we have maybe like two minutes before the entire place goes up.”

“Shit,” Pidge muttered. Sweat stung her eyes as she leaned into her bayard, trying to use her extra weight to add power to its cut. Finally, she sliced through the most damaged part of the metal. “Okay, okay—I think that’s workable. Hunk, can you kick it?” 

“What?” 

“Get on your back and kick the door,” Pidge clarified. She deactivated her bayard and turned to him, gesturing to the destroyed door. “There’s no time to cut out a hole, but it’s a door. There are hinges, see? It should respond to force—” 

Hunk moved forward before she could finish, grasping what she was trying to explain. It was a narrow fit for him to reposition, forcing Pidge to scramble back toward the growing fire. It had devoured Hunk’s seat and now nearly reached the ceiling, creating a wall of flame opposite them. Pidge couldn’t see anything else through the black smoke that billowed out from the combustible padding on the chair. Their helmets were the only things keeping them from choking. 

She tore her eyes away, trying to ignore the ferocious heat at her back. Hunk kicked the door once—twice—three times before it began to move, metal groaning under the force. 

“Almost… there,” Hunk muttered breathlessly. He kicked twice more, each strike sending a heavy shudder through the entire pod. Finally, the door jerked open wide enough to see green clearly through the opening, nearly two feet larger than it had been before. 

“Okay,” Hunk said, pushing himself upright. “That should be big enough—” 

“You go first,” Pidge said, practically dancing in her anxiety. She could feel flames flickering at her shoulder. 

Hunk twisted and angled himself through the narrow opening, trying to avoid cutting himself on the jagged metal that lined the most damaged part of the frame. His muscles strained to hold himself steady as he maneuvered out of the craft. 

As soon as his head dropped from her line of view, Pidge scrambled forward and followed the same path out. The angle of exit wasn’t as difficult for her and she slid down easily, muscles aching as she lowered to the unknown below. Just as Pidge started to worry about the distance to the ground, she felt Hunk’s hands around her waist helping guide her. Trusting his hold, she let herself drop. 

Pidge didn’t take any time to marvel at the strange world outside the craft before she and Hunk were scrambling over plants and downed trees to get away. It had crashed in a thick forest of green, trees staggeringly tall along rolling hills that disappeared into dark clouds of fog. 

She and Hunk ran from the pod without direction, heading into the unknown with nothing more than the armor on their backs.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes and countless feet later, Pidge collapsed on a downed tree trunk, breathing heavily. The front of her visor was foggy from sweat, so she waited for the temperature regulator to adjust as she caught her breath. She wasn’t out of shape by any stretch, but sprinting through hilly terrain was enough to wind even talented runners. 

“I can’t go any further,” she gasped, clutching at a stitch in her side. 

“Are you okay?” Hunk asked, equally out of breath. “The crash—are you hurt?”

“No, nothing bad. Just bruises.” Pidge waved off his concern. “I just need a break. Are you okay?”

“My neck hurts like a bitch,” replied Hunk, rubbing a hand in the gap between his chest plate and helmet. He paced anxiously around the small meadow as he stretched the soreness out, looking back the way they came. “Do you think we’re far enough away now?” 

“I don’t know. Did you hear an explosion?” Pidge replied. Then she paused, frowning. “Wait, would the pod explode?” 

“Depends on the fuel source,” Hunk answered. 

“…is quintessence combustible?” 

“Probably?” Hunk guessed. “But a lot of those older models run on crystals, I think. So I doubt there’d be an explosion. Just a lot of stinky fire.” 

“Well, if there’s fire, there’s a good chance this place is oxygen based, at least,” Pidge said, raising her gauntlet and pulling up the atmosphere analyzer. It only took a few seconds for the scan to work, and the results made Pidge grin. “Oh, good, it’s breathable. Humid as crap, but breathable.” 

She removed her helmet, wincing as it brushed against her burned neck. The air felt sticky against her skin, thick as stew and heavy with unfamiliar scents. Her nose scrunched up, immediately regretting her decision once she smelled something pungent and rotting in the air. “What the hell is that?” 

“Nature?” Hunk suggested. He pulled up his visor rather than remove his helmet, his face twisting as he smelled the same thing. “Oh, that’s… pleasant.” 

“I hate this adventure,” Pidge muttered, running a hand through her sweaty hair. She was probably just making it more unruly. “First we’re kidnapped, now we’re playing castaway in a—what kind of forest is this, anyway?” 

She stared with interest at the dark forest surrounding them. The trees weaved a canopy above, creating a layer of green with dim light glinting between the leaves like stars. The canopy was patchy, casting half the forest in shadow while the remainder lay open to gray skies. Thick clouds of fog rolled along the ground, obscuring anything further than a stone’s throw away. Outside their small meadow, the plants became little more than shapes lurking ominously in the hazy light. The trees towered higher than any Pidge had ever seen, their branches an endless series of spiny limbs weaving together in the sky. 

The forest floor was a multi-colored kaleidoscope of plant life, from squatty shrubs to delicate ferns to creeping vines that lined the ground in crisscross patterns. Looking around the tiny meadow, Pidge saw innumerable new shapes and patterns on the strange plants, their colors muted by the low light. 

“Is this a rainforest?” Pidge wondered. She brought her gauntlet up to scan more of the environment. “There’s a ton of water in the air, high temperature, canopy overhead… I think it is a rainforest. Or something like it, anyway.” 

“Looks like a jungle to me, but I think those might be the same thing,” Hunk said. Despite the anxious watch he kept on the shadows outside the meadow, he sounded awed by the sheer diversity of plant life around them. “I bet there’s a ton of cool herbs and spices here.” 

“And probably a cure for cancer,” Pidge added with a smirk. Then she sneezed, feeling the telltale itch of allergies in her nose. “Oh, _come on_. I’ve had my helmet off for like ten seconds!” 

Her allergies didn’t listen. She sneezed twice more and felt her eyes start to sting. 

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Pidge muttered, pulling her helmet back on with a frustrated groan. It sealed shut and the ventilation immediately started working to filter out the unfamiliar substances in the air. “At least our suits have air conditioning.” 

“Yeah, the air is pretty gross out here,” Hunk said. He was kneeling next to some shrubs at the edge of the meadow and investigating their leaves with a keen eye. 

“Nature is the worst,” Pidge muttered, pulling herself up to sit cross-legged on the trunk. Wind whistled through the trees, bringing with it a cacophony of chirps and odd noises that disturbed the calm. Pidge made a face, looking around the unfamiliar scene with growing discomfort. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the guardian spirit of the forest?”

“That’s the Green Lion, and _she_ doesn’t have allergies,” Pidge sniffed. “Besides, it’s not like there was an in-depth application process. I feel like the Lions just looked around until they saw someone they liked, and then it was all, ‘you! I like you! Come fight an alien war with me!’” 

“Sounds accurate,” Hunk replied, laughing. “Actually, on that note—have you been wondering how the Castle kept finding the bounty hunters?” 

“Yeah,” Pidge admitted. “I figured Lance must have planted a tracker or something.” 

“That might do it,” Hunk said. “But they said they couldn’t find anything in their scans. Wasn’t that what Unlao and Veera were annoyed about? A tracker would have popped up on the scans, right?” 

“I overheard their pilot saying the same thing when I stole back our armor,” Pidge added. “Maybe their tech isn’t good enough to sense it?” 

“Maybe,” Hunk acknowledged, “but have you considered that it might be something else?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like—I dunno, maybe it’s the Lions?”

Pidge entertained the idea with an air of skepticism. True, the Lions could find them when they were in serious danger, but they didn’t have any evidence that they could track them in general. Hell, they’d only just gotten Shiro back and the Black Lion hadn’t been able to track him until he was a hair’s breadth from dying. 

Still, it was an idea to consider, and Pidge didn’t have any strong evidence that it _wasn’t_ the Lions. With an even tone, she countered, “We haven’t seen anything like that before. Shiro was missing for months and the Black Lion didn’t help find him until the end, remember?” 

“Maybe it’s a distance thing?” Hunk guessed. He looked back at Pidge, still kneeling by the edge of the meadow with a collection of leaves in his hand. At her skeptical look, he said, “Look, I don’t know. I just—I had a weird dream while we were in the cell. It felt like Yellow was trying to talk to me.” 

Pidge frowned, recalling the strange dream she’d woken up from. The memory of green surrounding her felt jarring in light of their present location. However, when she tried to concentrate further, the memory of the dream slipped away, leaving her more uncertain than anything else. 

“Maybe,” Pidge finally said, unwilling to commit to the theory but not wanting to shut Hunk down. “It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing the Lions can do.” 

“It’s just a guess,” Hunk acknowledged. He moved to the other side of the meadow and bent to examine the new plants. Within a second, he made a face and started coughing. “Oh, man, I think I’ve found where that stench is coming from.” 

“Is it dying or something?” Pidge asked.

“No, it just smells really, _really_ awful.” Hunk stepped carefully around the plant as he tried to avoid crushing the vines layering the ground. It loomed over him, its fern-like leaves large and green with veins of red. Pidge could see twisted bulbs hidden between the folds of its leaves, promising gigantic flowers once it bloomed. 

“Ugh,” Pidge said, rubbing unseen goosebumps on her arms. “Is it just me, or does this place give you the creeps?” 

“I’m trying really hard not to look too closely at any bugs,” Hunk admitted, an edge of anxiety in his tone. “I’m only taking leaves to see what kind of plants we’re working with here. Y’know, if we need to make food or something.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Pidge said. “We should make a plan.” 

“For getting off the planet?” 

“I was thinking more for survival at first,” Pidge said. She opened the pouch on her belt and started picking through the scant contents of their travel emergency kits. There was a much better one on the Green Lion, but the ancient Alteans had apparently planned for disaster situations as well. “We should each have a knife, cord, a flint, and some kind of first aid kit, I think. Oh, and a portable water purifier—that’s gonna be super useful.” 

“If we can find water,” Hunk replied. He knelt at another bush, vines tangling around his feet as he collected more leaves. 

“It’s humid as crap here, I have to assume there’s water _somewhere_. The biggest concern is making sure we can drink it, but hopefully the purifier will help with that,” said Pidge. “Finding water should probably be our first goal. Shelter and food can come after that.” 

“Based on the light, we probably don’t have a lot of time,” Hunk said, gesturing up to the canopy far overhead. “I bet this place gets dark pretty quick at night.” 

“Good point,” Pidge said. Ignoring the mild protests of her body, she climbed down from the trunk and pulled up her scanner. “Okay, if we analyze the slope of the hill, we might be able to determine where water is likely to—” 

“What the—AGHH!” 

Pidge looked up at Hunk’s yell, bayard flashing ready on instinct. At first, it looked like Hunk had just slipped and fallen, lying on his back near the edge of the meadow, but then Pidge saw the tangle of mossy vines that wrapped around his legs. 

“Holy shit, I can’t—Pidge, help!” Hunk said, eyes wide with panic as he tried in vain to scramble back. The vines tightened and began to pull him toward the foul-smelling plant from before. As she watched, more vines began to wrap around Hunk’s wrists and torso. 

Pidge started forward but immediately tripped on vines as well. They started trying to wrap around her ankles, but she kicked out and dislodged the vines before they could get a solid grip. She scrambled for the fallen tree trunk she’d been perched on, just barely pulling her legs free. 

“Oh god, oh god, IT’S PULLING ME TO THE GROSS PLANT—!” 

Pidge whirled around on top of the trunk, eyes flying wide as she saw the scene before her. The huge fern was now awake. Its previous buds had bloomed, looking like a Venus flytrap had merged with a daisy and bathed in blood. Long rows of spiny teeth framed the edges of its petals. 

For a split second, Pidge froze and stared. _Teeth_. The plant had _teeth_. What in the actual fuck—

“PIDGE OH MY GOD—!” Hunk screamed as he was pulled toward the gigantic flower. The vines had swarmed up to wrap around his arms, effectively immobilizing him. 

Shaken from her shock, Pidge shot her bayard at the flower. It reared back as it was stabbed in the pistil. She activated her bayard and shocked the flower through its center before yanking it back. 

The flower curled in on itself, but the vines were still holding tight to Hunk. Aiming carefully, Pidge shot at the base of the vines, making sure not to hit too close to Hunk. Her bayard sliced through the vines with ease, but there were so many that it took a few minutes before Hunk was able to struggle free. 

Hunk scrambled to his feet and stared at the forest floor with wide eyes. Most of the vines around him lay dead and twitching, but healthier ones were quickly moving in to fill the gap.

“Pidge?” Hunk asked, horrified. “Pidge, _we need to go_ —!” 

“Right behind you!” Pidge shouted. She eyed the swarm of vines around the trunk, silently blessing her stars that they didn’t seem interested in crawling up the dead wood. Breathing deep, she took a running leap from the trunk and landed just clear of the healthy vines. Her momentum slammed her into Hunk, who quickly spun them both away from the killer plant and its vines. 

Without another breath, they took off yet again, hearts pounding in their throats.

 

* * *

 

“What _was_ that thing?” 

“Did you see the size of that flower?” 

“Seriously, _what the fuck_ —” 

“I hate this adventure,” Pidge repeated. They had finally stopped in a small grove that barely counted as such, but they were limited for open space in such an overgrown area. At least this area didn’t seem to have any vines. “Are all rainforests deadly? Is that just a rainforest thing?” 

“I swear to god, it had a throat,” Hunk muttered, giving a full body shudder. “Like an actual, honest-to-god _throat_. It was like two seconds away from swallowing me.” 

“Ew,” Pidge agreed. She couldn’t quell the urge to keep looking over her shoulder, uneasiness trickling down her spine. “I’m a little concerned about that plant.” 

“Uh, understatement?” said Hunk. “I’m _incredibly_ concerned about that plant. It tried to _eat me_.” 

“Yeah, that’s my point,” Pidge replied. “You’re not exactly easy prey. Kinda makes you wonder what it eats normally, doesn’t it?” 

Hunk stared at her, face eclipsed by dawning horror. After a long pause, he said, “I definitely don’t want to think about that.” 

“This is why I hate nature,” Pidge agreed bitterly. Forcing herself to ignore the growing shadows around them, she pulled up her gauntlet to run a scan. “We can probably find a river or a lake if we keep heading south. The scans are sensing more water that way.” 

“As long as we avoid any more nasty-smelling vine plants, lead the way.” 

Pidge started making her way through the jungle, which proved more difficult than normal from the sheer amount of undergrowth along the ground. She used her bayard to slice her way through the plants, though occasionally she opted to just scramble over higher piles of foliage. Thankfully, it was still light enough to see decently, even if the forest further out was ominously unclear. 

“Hey, is it just me, or does everything seem bigger on this planet?” Hunk asked as he carefully followed her chopped path. 

“What do you mean?” Pidge asked, not looking up from her map.

“Well, there are a couple sloth-like aliens hanging in that tree there,” Hunk explained. “But they are literally me-sized.” 

Pidge looked up at his gesture, eyes growing wide at the sight of the enormous beasts lounging in the tree. They had large eyes and long curved claws, matted brown fur blending easily with the bark. They watched Hunk and Pidge as they passed with idle curiosity, not bothering to move from their perch. 

“Also,” Hunk added, his tone pitching higher, “is that a snake?” 

She followed his gaze to a tree further back. A dark mass was wrapped around its trunk. As she squinted through the fog, the shadows seemed to shift, revealing an enormous black snake with neon green eyes. It stared at them with unnerving stillness, thick as a chimney and twice as long. 

“Ooookay,” Pidge murmured, panic seizing at her heart. “I think maybe we should walk faster.” 

“Yep,” Hunk instantly agreed. He didn’t seem to be able to look away from the snake, face a few shades paler than normal. 

At a somewhat quicker pace, Pidge continued to chop through the jungle, eyes darting between the ground and her map. She couldn’t shake the persistent feeling of being watched, like there was some looming presence hiding just behind the edge of her vision, waiting for her to let her guard down. 

Based on Hunk’s quiet, anxious muttering and increasingly closeness, she wasn’t alone. 

After an eternity of trekking through the dim forest, Pidge drew to a halt. She frowned at the map. “Okay, the scan says that the highest nearby concentration of water should be here, but I can’t see where—” 

She sliced through a tall tangle of weeds and stepped forward, but the ground suddenly vanished, leaving nothing but open air five feet above a lake. Startled, Pidge was unable to do more than yelp as she tumbled forward to the water below. 

Hunk grabbed the back of her armor before she could fall, pulling her against his chest. For a brief moment, they both froze and stared. Now that the weeds had been cut away, they could clearly see a steep bank curving along a dark green lake. 

“Well,” Pidge said breathlessly. “I found the water.” 

Hunk released her with a heavy sigh. They stared at the lake for a long moment before Hunk begrudgingly suggested, “We should probably find another way down.” He did not sound enthused. 

Pidge stared at the thick weeds framing each side of her choppy path. “This forest _sucks_ ,” she groaned, raising her bayard yet again. 

They slowly cut their way down to the bank along the curve of the lake. The water was dark and deep, its smooth surface speckled with some sort of multi-colored algae. The fog thinned to a mist above the water, floating in slow waves like dry ice. She and Hunk were alone on their section of the bank, but on the other side of the lake Pidge could see a litter of large muskrat-like creatures playing in the shallows, seemingly unconcerned with the two strange aliens across from them. Another deer-like alien nearby had waded into deeper water to drink and was watching them warily as it sipped. 

Pidge dug in her belt to retrieve the portable water purifier, which was little more than a straw attached to a collapsible clear container. Kneeling by the lakeside, she said, “Okay, this should be pretty straightforward.” 

“Like making a lake water juice box, right?” Hunk asked. 

“Yeah, basically,” Pidge concurred. She unrolled her container and filled it up, making a face at the swirl of dirt that came with the water. “Gross, I think the bank is making it murkier. I’m gonna wade in a little deeper and see if I can get a clearer sample.” 

“Does it matter?” Hunk asked. “It’s going to be filtered out anyway.” 

“No sense in overworking the filter if we don’t have to,” Pidge replied, shrugging as she emptied out her container. “Here, give me your purifier so I can fill up both. Keep an eye out for any weird vines, will you?” 

“I’m going to see them in my nightmares,” Hunk predicted ominously before handing over the requested purifier. 

Pidge stifled a laugh as she made her way deeper into the lake, stepping with care to avoid any unseen drop-offs. Once the water hit mid-thigh, she stopped and waited for any disturbed dirt to settle back down the ground. 

A creeping feeling slid down her spine, making Pidge look around nervously. The alien animals had frozen when she first entered the water, but they weren’t watching her now, so she couldn’t tell what was causing the strange sense of observation. She eyed the forest that encircled the lake. The bank rose into a hill on all sides, creating a fishbowl effect as she tried to look into the growing darkness beyond the line of trees. It felt like something was watching her. 

“Everything okay?” Hunk asked. 

His voice broke the eerie mood. Pidge forcefully shook off the lingering unease and uncapped the first container, replying, “Y-yeah, it’s fine. Just adjusting to the water. You don’t see any vines, do you?” 

“Nah, I think we’re safe for now,” Hunk replied. “Those little otter-things are kinda cute, actually.” 

“Bet they have poisonous fangs,” Pidge said darkly. Once the water seemed settled, she gently dunked the first container into the lake, trying to avoid any algae or obvious sediment as she filled it. “You know, like that Monty Python sketch with the killer bunny?” 

“Lance and I have a bet that’s how we’re gonna get taken out, actually,” Hunk replied. “Not a laser space battle or anything cool, just a misadventure with a crazy alien bunny.” 

“Seems as likely as anything else,” Pidge said, grinning at the comical image. “What about one of those creepy monsters from Alien? That’d be pretty gruesome.” 

“No, see, it’s supposed to be ridiculous, that’s why it’s—uhh, Pidge?”

Pidge paused in the middle of filling the second container, disliking the note of warning in his tone. Warily, she asked, “What?” 

“Um, the cute otters just booked it from the water,” Hunk said. Pidge glanced over at the opposite bank, where the alien muskrats were now cuddled together far away from the water. The alien deer had frozen, head up and ears perked as it listened for threats. 

Nothing happened, but Pidge could still feel the tension in the air.

“I think you should get out of the water, Pidge,” Hunk said. 

“Okay,” replied Pidge, capping the second container and slowly beginning to back away toward the bank. “Okay, I’m just going to—” 

Without warning, a giant shape leapt from the water and slammed into the alien deer. It fell into the lake with a splash, squealing in terror as more dark shapes rammed into it. The lake waters began to froth, deep green mixing with dark blood as the gray shapes tore into the alien deer. 

“Holy shit!” Pidge shrieked, abandoning her slow exit. She bolted for the shore, fighting the water for a few moments before remembering her jet pack. Activating the boosters, Pidge launched into the air only seconds before a gray shape lunged from the water at her. 

It was an enormous fish with a bulbous forehead and razor-sharp teeth. It leapt toward her and nearly snagged her leg, but Pidge twisted at the last second and it missed. A few of its cousins splashed in the water below, but Pidge was already veering toward the shore at breakneck speed. 

She flew toward Hunk wildly but he managed to catch her without stumbling too much. Pidge deactivated her jetpack and turned back to the lake, scrambling as far back from the water as she could. 

The once calm waters were frenzied, blood red and bubbling as the school of fish devoured the alien deer alive. It had long since stopped squealing. 

Pidge stared in horror. The fish that attacked her were still swimming angrily around, searching for their misplaced prey. 

“Are those—am I seeing this right?” Hunk asked. His hands were frozen around her shoulders, terror clear in his tone. “Like— _seriously,_ are those piranhas?” 

“They just ate that deer alive,” Pidge murmured, unable to look away from the grisly sight before them. “It took less than 10 seconds. I just—oh my god.” 

“We should leave,” Hunk said. 

Neither of them moved, eyes locked on the bloody lake. 

“Piranhas don’t usually attack big things,” Pidge said, feeling like a robot reciting facts from a biology textbook. “I mean, they _can_ , obviously, but normally they… they stick with small prey—” 

“Did you see the size of them?” Hunk asked. He released her shoulders to stretch out his arms, miming a shape roughly the length of a meter stick. “We _are_ small prey. I mean, compared to every other enormous creature here—” 

Pidge swallowed, panic dancing in her bones from the near brush with death. Taking a deep breath, she held out Hunk’s container of water. “Here,” she said, forcing herself to look away from the lake. “We should get out of here before the smell of blood draws in some other monster—” 

She broke off as she realized that Hunk wasn’t looking at her. He was staring down the bank, eyes so round she could see the white all around his irises. 

“Too late,” he said bleakly. 

Feeling her stomach drop, Pidge looked over her shoulder. 

A huge four-legged creature was slinking toward them through the fog. It looked like a mix between a jaguar and a wolf, with huge perked ears and fangs flashing beneath a long snout. The creature’s fur was deep green with black splotches, camouflaging its gigantic form easily against the abundant plant life. 

It stared right at them, eyes reflecting gold in the dim light. 

In a flash, Pidge knew without a doubt what had been watching them. She stared in frozen terror, a million years of evolution warning her against the deadly threat. 

Before she could fully register the new creature, a movement further up the bank caught her eye. On the steep hill leading down toward the lake, another bear-sized monster stalked toward them. 

“Oh god,” she whispered. “There are two of them, Hunk.” 

“Three,” Hunk corrected, voice trembling. Barely moving, he pointed his finger across the lake, where Pidge could see a third big cat walking along the curve of the bank, eyes locked on them. “It’s a pack, Pidge.” 

“Oh, quiznack,” Pidge said, tone hushed in horror. 

“Get behind me,” said Hunk, bayard materializing at his side. “You watch the one flanking us and I’ll try to hit these two.” 

Dropping the water, Pidge generated her bayard and pressed close to Hunk’s back as she faced the opposite bank. The third jaguar monster was stalking quickly around the lake, ears tilted toward them. Despite its fluffy wolf-like fur, it moved with a sinuous slink that Pidge had only ever seen in documentaries about wild cats. 

Hunk’s blaster fired. She jumped at the noise, tensing as adrenaline shot down her spine. Pidge forced herself not to look back, trusting Hunk to handle it. She kept her eyes locked on the third jaguar monster now weaving its way through the overgrown grass on the hilly part of the bank. 

Pidge took a slow breath, trying to stay calm as Hunk’s bayard blasted loudly behind her. Her target was still out of range, clearly in its element as it stepped lightly through the foliage. As it approached, Pidge could see its eyes locked on her, each pupil so wide the entire eye looked black. 

It came toward her at an angle, huge ears flattening against its skull with every blast from Hunk’s bayard. It was nearly in range— five feet— three feet— tree in the way, almost there— 

As soon as she had a clear shot, Pidge launched her bayard. She struck a glancing blow, cutting a bloody slice along its flank. 

The monster hissed, more surprised than injured. It leapt nimbly away from the lake, taking coverage in the denser brush of the hilly bank. Pidge kept her aim steady as she followed it stalking low through the grass. It was too large to completely hide despite the camouflage provided by the trees and undergrowth. 

It only took a few seconds for the jaguar alien to slink back into range. Pidge fired instantly, this time striking a solid hit against its shoulder. The monster roared as electricity pulsed through the weapon, scrambling back. 

Pidge pulled her bayard back and then whipped it out again, striking another glancing blow. The cat jumped out of range, hissing loudly at the threat. Pidge turned to follow it, eyes locked on her target. 

A whirling mound of green fur and fangs struck her without warning. 

She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. The monster clamped down on her shoulder, teeth tearing at the armor relentlessly. It snapped all around her neck in a terrifying fury. Pidge scrambled beneath it, petrified and screaming as claws swiped across her helmet. 

The jaguar bit her shoulder again. Its teeth bit down like a vice as it tore at her armor. She tried to swing her bayard, but was stopped short by one of its paws clawing at her chest piece. She struggled to twist away but it held her effortlessly, its weight like a boulder on her chest. 

Then she heard the worst sound she could imagine. 

_CRACK_ —

Her armor shattered under the monster’s bite, its jaw large enough to envelop her entire shoulder. A shooting pain erupted in her shoulder as the jaguar struck down on her flesh. The world was a dark green blur of flashing fangs and deep growls. She could barely hear her screams over the sound of blood rushing in her ears, agony overwhelming every sense. Claws dug into her stomach, pinning her down as the monster reared back to get a better bite. 

Pidge could only see sharp teeth inside a blood-soaked muzzle. Fear boiling in her blood, she stabbed her bayard into the monster’s side, her only thought to get free— 

The jaguar jolted back as she shocked it, but it didn’t jump away. It hissed, claws shrieking across her armor as it tried to snap at the bayard. Pidge struck again, blindly flailing as she fought to dislodge the beast. 

Suddenly the monster was gone, knocked back with a heavy crash. 

Pain colored the world around her. She could barely catch her breath through the agony burning in her shoulder. 

“Pidge!” 

Every nerve screamed at her as she struggled to move. Pidge curled to her uninjured side and tried to push herself up with limited success. Her arm burned, hot blood soaking her sleeve. Air choked in her lungs like she was hyperventilating. 

The loud rat-tat-tat of Hunk’s bayard blasted near her ear, along with a desperate voice crying, “Pidge! Pidge, oh god, get up!” 

She blinked tears from her eyes, staring up at Hunk standing above her. He stood with his blaster held ready, unmovable as a mountain as he fired at some unseen threat. He looked like some kind of action hero, his paladin armor gleaming and bright against the darkness around him. 

“Pidge, please—” 

_I need to help him_ , she thought dimly, trembling as she struggled to her knees. Her visor was splattered with blood, blocking half her view. Between the red smears, she could see the body of a jaguar monster slumped mere feet from her hands, bloody muzzle gaping open to show curved fangs. 

Pidge recoiled, scrambling back in alarm before she registered that it was dead. The monster’s side was a mess of blood and eviscerated organs, its eyes staring blankly ahead. 

Nausea twisted in her stomach, shoulder throbbing like a hot brand, and Pidge felt her good arm give out. She crumpled against the ground, body trembling as the world reduced itself to patches. _No, I have to—_  

Blaster fire screamed around her. 

— _I have to help—_  

The ground dissolved into darkness. 

_Green eyes flashed_ — 

Pidge jolted awake with a roar in her ears, deeper and angrier than anything she’d ever heard. She gasped as pain flared anew, leaving her breathless. 

The blaster fire was gone. Everything felt suspended in eerie stillness. 

Hunk’s face swam above her, eyes wide. He was saying something, pleading, but Pidge couldn’t hear him. Blood soaked his gloves. 

She tried to reply, to ask what was wrong, but the world went hazy once more. 

_She was standing in a forest. It was impossibly calm, birds silent and wind absent. The sound of her own breathing grated against her ears._

_In front of her, Pidge saw Hunk. He was kneeling, fists clenched against his knees and eyes closed. There was a set of vicious gashes along his side staining his armor red, but his hands were the bloodiest. They left crimson streaks on his armor as he bowed over his knees, looking almost like he was—praying?_

_Pidge frowned. The air around Hunk seemed to glow with a yellow tint. She tried to look closer, but the world rippled, twisting into a green blur—_  

Pain struck her like a sledgehammer, choking the air from her lungs. Tears in her eyes, she saw nothing but a blur of green overhead. 

“Pidge, I need you take this, come on,” a voice was saying. 

Pidge followed the sound, vision clearing enough to make out Hunk beside her. He was pressing something against her mouth. She frowned in confusion, world still dim with pain. 

“It’s just a pill, but it’ll help,” Hunk was saying. 

He looked upset. Pidge could see worry lines creasing on his forehead and tears bright in his eyes. She reached up with her good hand, weakly grabbing at his wrist in some semblance of comfort. 

Pidge hated it when Hunk cried. He was too good to cry. 

“Hunk?” she whispered. Her shoulder throbbed. 

“Just take the pill, Pidge,” Hunk assured her. “I’ll get us out of here.” 

He pushed the pill into her mouth, followed by a straw. Pidge sucked reflexively, swallowing the medicine with a gulp of pure water. She slumped back against the ground once Hunk pulled the water away. The pain still threatened to overwhelm her, but Pidge desperately clung to consciousness. 

“Hunk?” she said again. “Hunk, what…?” 

“Hold tight,” Hunk replied. “I know a safe place, but we have to move and it’s gonna hurt, I’m sorry.” 

She barely had time to consider his words before he was lifting her. 

Agony flared in her shoulder, striking her back to the dark in a single breathless scream.

 

* * *

 

When Pidge awoke, the absence of pain was the first thing she noticed. 

She blinked, taking slow breaths to avoid shattering the pain-free illusion. She didn’t dare try to move, the memory of her vicious injury still fresh in her mind, but the world felt like she was wrapped in cotton, soft and sweet. 

_Hunk gave me something_ , Pidge remembered, staring up in a daze. The canopy of leaves was gone, replaced by a dark stone ceiling. She could hear the sound of dripping water echoing from somewhere to her left. 

She looked over and saw curved walls leading into darkness. Dim light showed an area barely larger than her room on the ship, littered sparsely with dead leaves. 

Pidge was lying on a stone floor, helmet off and head resting against the hard ground. She looked down to see her upper armor missing. Her undersuit was mostly intact, but the sleeve was missing on her injured arm, its seam in tatters. The arm was wrapped in a makeshift sling consisting of white bandages and torn strips of black fabric. Pain flared up when she shifted her shoulder experimentally, but the muted sting was a far cry from the shooting agony before. 

When Pidge looked to the right, she saw Hunk seated near the mouth of the cave only a few feet away. He slumped forward with his arms wrapped around his knees, the light outside framing him into a dark silhouette. He rested his forehead against his knees, helmet and upper armor sitting on the ground beside him. Pidge blinked in surprise as she realized that his arms were bare, the sleeves missing from his undersuit. As she looked closer, Pidge saw white bandages peeking out from jagged tears in the suit on his side. 

“Hunk?” Pidge said. Her voice sounded scratchy. 

Hunk jerked up, staring over at her with startled eyes. His hair was messy, headband gripped tightly in his hands. Pidge couldn’t read the expression on his face, but as he scrambled over it morphed into relief. “Hey, how are you feeling? Did the pill work? Your allergies aren’t acting up, are they?” 

“Um, I’m okay for now, I think,” she murmured, unsure which question to answer first. She shifted onto her good arm, trying to sit up. “Hey, could you—?” 

“Yeah, here,” Hunk cut in, helping her move until she was leaning upright against the wall of the cave. Her shoulder only protested mildly, beautifully numbed by the medicine, but her movements lagged like she was trying to push through molasses. 

Once she was settled, Pidge asked, “What happened?” 

Hunk winced. 

“What?” Pidge asked, frowning. 

Hunk looked down at his hands, twisting his headband anxiously. “I’m—I’m so sorry, Pidge. I hit the first monster and thought it was down, and then the second one distracted me, so I didn’t see the first one get back up until it hit you, and I couldn’t get back in time—” 

“Hey, wait,” Pidge interrupted, holding her hand out as though to physically make him cease. “Whatever happened wasn’t your fault, Hunk—”

“But it _was_ ,” Hunk cried, staring at Pidge with a pained look on his face. “I completely ignored that first one once I hit it! It was such a rookie mistake, and then I let it get behind me and you got hurt—!” 

“Hunk,” Pidge protested, trying not to feel overwhelmed by Hunk’s self-lamentations. “Please, just—stop.” 

Hunk paused instantly, eyes wide. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just shout at you, I was just…” 

He trailed off, expression distraught, and Pidge felt a pang in her heart. She reached out with her good arm and touched his arm, trying to comfort him. “It’s not your fault, Hunk. It was two against three, and those monsters were hunting as a pack. That’s not easy to fight.” 

“You got hurt,” Hunk repeated, not meeting her eyes. 

“So did you,” Pidge countered. “And then you fought off all three and got me out of there. I couldn’t have done that.” 

Hunk looked up tentatively, brow furrowed beneath messy bangs. After a long moment clearly warring with his response, he said, “Your shoulder guard is shattered.”

Pidge frowned at the change of subject but didn’t want to keep pushing it when Hunk was upset. Sighing, she said, “I figured. What about the rest of it?” 

“Other than some claw marks on the chest piece, everything else is solid,” Hunk answered. “I bandaged your shoulder as best I could, but the bite was really deep and there was only a tiny tube of antiseptic gel in the first aid kits. We’re completely out of bandages now, too.” 

Pidge looked down at her injured shoulder. Now that she had a better angle, she recognized the black straps covering the white bandages as strips of their undersuits. The white bandages were stained red in spots, though the entire wrap was well secured. “It seems to be holding. And the pain meds are definitely helping, even though I feel kinda loopy.” 

“You don’t feel sick or anything, do you?” Hunk asked. “I recognized the pills from Coran’s survival brief, but I have no idea how many we’re able to take.” 

“Nah, not sick,” Pidge replied. “Just floaty.” 

“I still think you should stay awake as long as you can,” Hunk replied. “Just to make sure I didn’t accidentally give you too much. You’re not slurring your words or anything, but—” 

“I’m fine, Hunk,” Pidge assured him, eyeing the way he nervously fussed with the collection of armor pieces on the floor. Even her drugged state wasn’t enough to mask the signs of Hunk’s growing anxiety. “How’d you find this place, anyway? I don’t remember passing by it.” 

Hunk hesitated, slowly setting down a shard from Pidge’s ruined armor. Running a hand through his messy hair, he said, “Oh, that’s kind of a weird story.” 

“Our entire lives are a weird story at this point,” Pidge said flatly. 

“Okay, well—you know how I thought the Lions might be tracking us?” Hunk prompted. “I sort of tried to talk back.” 

Pidge narrowed her eyes. “As in, you tried to talk to Yellow? 

“Yeah, and that’s the thing, Pidge—it _worked_ ,” Hunk exclaimed, his eyes bright. “I scared away the cat monsters, but you were super hurt and I was only able to kill one of them, so I was freaking out that the other two were gonna come back. We were way too exposed, and I had no idea what to do. But then I thought, if the Yellow Lion is the guardian spirit of earth, wouldn’t it make sense that he’d be able to find a cave or something?” 

Hunk gestured widely to the stone surrounding them as proof, a victorious light in his eyes. 

“Wait,” Pidge said, unable to keep the skepticism from her tone. “You’re saying the Yellow Lion told you about this cave?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Hunk replied. 

“How?” 

“I have no idea,” admitted Hunk. “I just meditated and tried to get that Voltron-y feeling, and then I felt like how I do flying Yellow. He was right there. It was like he was guiding me to the cave.” 

“But—,” Pidge protested. The fuzziness from the drugs only made following the logic of Hunk’s story that much harder, like her neurons were firing a half-second too slow. “That doesn’t make sense. How would the Yellow Lion even know about the cave? We’ve never been here before.” 

“Maybe the previous Yellow Paladin came here before?” Hunk offered. 

“Ten thousand years ago?” Pidge replied. 

“I don’t know,” Hunk said. “But I followed the directions and the cave was here, so _something_ was guiding me.” 

Pidge frowned, considering the tale, but her stomach interrupted with a loud gurgle before she could respond. Pidge wrapped her good arm around it, wincing at the empty feeling. “Any chance the Yellow Lion led you to some food?” 

“No, but I saw a few fruit bushes nearby,” Hunk said. “I’m starving too, but I was waiting for you to wake up. Want me to go test them?” 

“Please do,” said Pidge. “It feels like my stomach’s trying to eat itself.” 

“Here, drink some water,” Hunk replied, handing her one of the purifiers. “You need to stay hydrated. I’ll be back soon.” 

Pidge watched him leave as she sipped from the water pouch, still mulling over Hunk’s revelation. If the Yellow Lion had been the one to guide Hunk to the cave, did that mean the others were close? It might not mean anything. Zarkon had somehow been able to track them through his bond with the Black Lion, so maybe distance didn’t matter. Pidge puzzled over the idea, thinking back to her weird vision when she was unconscious—had she seen Hunk contacting the Yellow Lion? But she’d been standing, not hurt at all, so how did that work? 

Furthermore, how did the Yellow Lion know about the cave? Recalling how they found the Blue Lion, Pidge examined the cave walls for any telltale lion-shaped marks. She couldn’t see any from where she sat, but the idea of standing up to investigate further just made her feel dizzy. 

Resting her head against the wall, Pidge drank some more water and stared at mouth of the cave, watching the plants outside as she waited for Hunk to return. She tried to further consider the mystery of the Paladin bond, but the air was sticky warm and the drugs weighed heavily on her limbs. At some point, Pidge closed her eyes, feeling like she was sinking down into a pile of blankets. 

“Pidge!” A hand prodded her arm, shaking her from her daze. “Pidge, I need you to stay awake, c’mon—” 

Pidge opened her eyes to see Hunk in front of her, dark brown eyes watching her with concern. When had he gotten back? The floaty feeling was even stronger, making Pidge feel warm and detached as she murmured, “Hey, I missed you.” 

“Missed you too?” Hunk said, looking amused. He held out a strange-looking yellow fruit. “The scans say this should be good to eat. It’s sweet—tastes kind of like an apple, I think.” 

Pidge grabbed the fruit and took a bite. The tart flavor dusted away some of her sleepiness, but she still felt like she was drifting as she slowly chewed. 

“Hey, Pidge, c’mon,” Hunk prodded. Pidge blinked, unaware she’d closed her eyes until she opened them again. “You need to finish your fruit, okay?” 

Pidge looked down. There was a single bite marring the smooth yellow skin, revealing dark blue innards. “I’m tired,” she murmured as she lifted the fruit to her mouth. 

“Right, I get that, but you can’t go to sleep, okay? Not for another hour at least,” Hunk said. “Let’s talk about something. You were doing okay when we were talking before.” 

“Okay,” Pidge agreed. She took another small bite of the fruit. “About what?” 

“Uh, I don’t know,” Hunk said, furrowing his brow as he tried to think of options. At some point he had retied his headband his forehead, Pidge noted with an odd sort of whimsy. “How about the Castle? Do you think they had to cancel those meetings and stuff? Lance isn’t just chasing us on his own, so it makes sense that everyone else is looking, too. Like Matt, right? He’s probably pretty worried, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah, probably,” replied Pidge. Hunk didn’t look satisfied by the response, tapping his fingers restlessly on his knee, but Pidge couldn’t think of much else to add. She avoided the weird silence by taking another bite of fruit. 

“Um,” Hunk began, hunting for another topic. “Oh, right—you and Lance were fighting, right? At the market? What was that about?” 

A wary feeling twisted in her stomach. “He was mad that I played a trick on him,” she said slowly, recalling her previous excuse.

“What trick?” Hunk prompted. When Pidge didn’t reply, he said, “C’mon, Pidge, what trick did you play? Explain it to me.” 

Pidge knew Hunk was just trying to get her to talk, and a dim part of her mind insistently whispered to just make something up. But the rest of her body apparently wasn’t in on the plan, and her mouth was moving before she could stop it. 

“Matt said he thought you had a crush on me,” Pidge answered, feeling like she was speaking outside her body. “So, I tricked Lance into admitting it and he was mad that I made him break the bro code.” 

Hunk’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?” 

The reality of what she just said hit Pidge like a ton of bricks. She stared back at Hunk, feeling some of her dazed sleepiness wash away as her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She wanted to look away, hating the awkward tension of the moment. After a long moment, she repeated in one fast, mumbling statement, “Matt said you had a crush on me and Lance agreed and now I’m just… really confused.” 

“Oh,” Hunk said. He took a breath, looking up at the ceiling with an embarrassed twist to his mouth. Even in the darkness of the cave, Pidge could see his cheeks grow flushed. “Well, that’s… great. Thanks, Lance.” 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Pidge offered. “I tricked him.” 

“Yeah, you said,” Hunk mumbled. Then, eyes darting back to meet hers, Hunk asked, “Is that why you’ve been acting weird?” 

“I guess,” Pidge said. She hated every second of this awkward, horrible conversation, made doubly frustrating by the lingering fogginess in her mind. “I just—I’m not really good at… people. So, I was confused. Am confused. I don’t know. Why didn’t you ever say anything to _me_?” 

“I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable,” Hunk said, looking pained. “You’re my best friend and I didn’t want that to change. And I know you don’t really do relationships or anything, so I just… didn’t say anything.” 

“Lance said you had a crush on me back at the garrison,” Pidge said, unable to completely avoid the note of accusation in her tone. 

“Goddammit, Lance,” Hunk muttered, rolling his eyes. Sighing, he said, “Okay, yes, maybe, but that was before we became best friends and you didn’t really like me much back then. And I still didn’t want to make you feel weird or anything, so I just… had a crush. From a distance.” 

“You read my diary,” Pidge pointed out. 

“From a short distance,” Hunk amended, wincing. 

“But we’re friends now,” Pidge continued, still puzzling over the new information. Her chest felt tight as she added, “And I know you didn’t want to make things weird, but it just feels like I’m missing a huge part of our friendship because I had no idea and apparently everyone else could tell.” 

“Look, I don’t know how Matt figured it out, but I promise I wasn’t going around telling people,” Hunk said. “I only ever told Lance, and that’s just because he’s really good at spotting that kind of thing and was teasing me about having a sexuality crisis, which I _wasn’t_ because I don’t really care about that, but I didn’t want things to change between us, Pidge. And I just— look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to have the rejection talk when you’re all drugged up and injured and we’re abandoned on some castaway planet, okay? Today has already sucked enough.”

Hunk looked away, wringing his hands and staring awkwardly at the floor. Pidge watched him for a moment in stunned silence, hating the dejected slump of his shoulders. Then she frowned as she registered his last statement. 

“Wait,” Pidge said. “What do you mean, the rejection talk?” 

Hunk sighed, managing to look back up at her. “Seriously, I don’t think my embarrassment can handle much more of this, Pidge.” 

“What makes you think I’m rejecting you?” she asked. 

Hunk paused, looking mystified. Slowly, he said, “You… you said you were confused—” 

“I am,” Pidge admitted, feeling her face grow hot as she wrestled with how to explain it. “I have no idea what I’m doing and I hate not knowing what to do, but I do like you. I mean, we’re best friends, of course I like you, but… like that. Like a crush, I think. I just don’t get why you like _me_. Especially considering that half the alien girls we run into fall in love with you.” 

“What?” Hunk protested. “They do not—” 

“Those two warrior girls literally _fought_ over you,” Pidge said. 

“That was a weird culture thing.” 

“And then there’s Shay—” 

“I’ve told you guys a thousand times, Shay and I are just friends,” Hunk argued, exasperation washing some of the embarrassment from his face. Then, frowning, he asked, “Wait… you like me?” 

Pidge looked down, turning the half-eaten fruit around in her hands as she considered how to respond. “I don’t know. Yes. Maybe. I don’t really… I don’t think I like people like I’m suppose to, but I do like you.” 

“What do you mean, like you’re supposed to?” 

Discomfort churned in her stomach. Pidge took a bite of fruit, trying to figure out how to put her experience into words, but she was still at a loss after she swallowed. She couldn’t tell how much of her disorientation was due to the pain meds, but they definitely weren’t helping. 

Hunk just watched her, waiting, and eventually Pidge began, “I never really cared about dating like the other girls did. It just never seemed interesting.” 

He shrugged. “It can be boring.” 

“Yeah, but it’s more than that,” Pidge replied, gesturing vaguely with her hands as she struggled to explain it. “I just didn’t care at all. Like, I could see that people were attractive or whatever, but I never felt any desire to do anything about it. Why would I want to hang out with someone just because they looked nice? Even when I thought I might have a crush, the most I ever wanted to do was to kiss them. Or maybe cuddle or something. Anything more just felt… I don’t know, boring and weird.” 

She looked at Hunk after she finished, having never verbalized it before and not sure what to expect. But instead of bewilderment or amusement or something horrible, Hunk mostly just looked curious. 

The attention only made her feel more awkward. Stammering, Pidge rambled on, “And studies have shown that some mammals show signs of asexuality—like, not being interested in sex, not the one about reproducing by themselves, because that’s invertebrates, which are, um, not the same. And well, humans could be like that too, because—I mean, we’re different, but at the end of the day, humans are also… mammals…” 

Pidge trailed off, her train of thought disappearing into the fog in her head. Sighing with annoyance, she muttered, “These drugs are really strong.” 

“It’s okay,” Hunk said. Pidge tried to glare at his fond look but it didn’t prove effective, as Hunk continued to fight a grin. “I get what you’re saying. It’s fine, really. And as it stands, you’re a mammal I happen to like.” 

“You—,” Pidge began warily. “Really? You don’t care?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with not being interested in sex,” Hunk said. “It’s not as big a deal as everyone makes it out to be.” 

“You’ve had sex?” Pidge asked before she could stop herself, feeling her cheeks flush hot. She fought against the urge to look away. 

“Well, no,” Hunk said, looking equally awkward, “but I know I don’t really care that much about it. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re not interested in doing that kind of stuff, Pidge. That’s not why I like you.” 

“It’s not?” There was a note of uncertainty in her tone that Pidge wished she could blame on the drugs. 

“Well, I mean, I think you’re really pretty,” admitted Hunk, a shy smile gracing his lips. He gave a short laugh, adding, “You were the prettiest boy I’d ever seen.” 

Pidge rolled her eyes, countering, “Lance is prettier than I am.” 

“Not my type,” Hunk replied easily. Then, shaking his head, he said, “I like you for a lot of reasons, Pidge. You’re my best friend. And yeah, I want to kiss you too, but it’s fine by me if that’s where it stops.” 

The air seemed frozen, like there was nothing but this conversation left in the world. Pidge stared at Hunk, heart beating loudly in her chest. She felt paralyzed by confusion and overwhelmed by Hunk’s response, everything twisting together like a strangely fond knot. 

“Hunk, I—,” Pidge started, not entirely sure what she was going to say. 

Unfortunately, just then, a flash of light from outside their cave caught her eye. Pidge blinked, frowning as the moment broke. “Did you see that?” 

“Huh?” Hunk asked, turning to look. Above the canopy, they could see flashes of bright light flickering through the leaves, striking against the growing darkness. “Wait, what is that?” 

Hunk went to the mouth of the cave and stared up at the sky, blocking Pidge’s view. After a few beats of silence, Pidge prompted, “Well?” 

He looked slowly back at her. 

“It’s the bounty hunters,” Hunk answered, jaw tight with worry. “They’ve found us.”

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

 

 _“Oh, hey, look at this flirting rock star,” Lance said as he sat down, grinning at Pidge with a victorious gleam in his eyes. Hunk lumbered behind him, his pained expression warning Pidge that she was probably not going to enjoy this conversation._

_“What are you talking about?” Pidge asked, giving him a puzzled look as she shuffled through her notes. Her mind was still half-focused on last night, recalling the strange scatter interlaced with whispers of some weird thing called Voltron._

_“That dude,” Lance said, gesturing to the boy who had just come over to ask for a copy of Pidge’s class notes. “You were talking to him for at least ten minutes. And I didn’t even see you snap at him once! That’s like a love note in Pidge-speak. I’m so proud—aren’t you proud, Hunk? Our Pidge is finally growing up and learning to flirt like a man.”_

_Pidge made a face. “Since when is talking to someone flirting with them?”_

_“Oh, wait, are you gay?” Lance asked, ignoring her question entirely. “We never really cleared that up. So, gay? Bi? Straight but willing to entertain boys with crushes? This is important information the world needs to know, Pidge.”_

_“No, it isn’t. And I’m undeclared. Because I don’t care,” Pidge said, feeling her patience crumbling faster than a sandcastle in a windstorm. She turned to Hunk for support, but he was busy glaring at Lance, looking embarrassed for some reason. Annoyed, she said, “Is it going to be like this every time I talk to someone new? Leave it alone, Lance.”_

_“Pidge,” Lance intoned, reaching out and trying to grab Pidge’s hand, but she pulled it away. Maintaining eye contact despite her glare, he emphatically said, “We support you.”_

_“Oh my god,” she muttered, turning back to her notes. “Please never talk.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The bounty hunters had landed. They were armed, dangerous, and just as confused by the rainforest as Pidge and Hunk. 

At least, that’s what Hunk had managed to ascertain from his initial investigation.

“I think the canopy blocked a lot of the smoke from the fire,” Hunk said through the communicator. “That’s probably why it took them this long to find us.” 

Safe in the cave, Pidge idly fussed with her chest plate, trying to buff out the claw gauges to no avail. It would probably help if she had more than one arm to put to the task, but her injured shoulder throbbed anytime she shifted. As the pain meds began to wear off, her regained alertness seemed mostly preoccupied with reminding her that animal bites hurt. 

“What kind of trackers are they using?” Pidge asked. 

“I can’t tell from this distance,” Hunk replied. “I could try to get closer?” 

Pidge glanced outside the cave. The fog had dissipated but the sky was quickly approaching nighttime levels of darkness, turning the trees outside the cave into ominous shadows. “It’s too risky. It’s going to be nearly impossible to see anything in the forest soon.” 

“I can use the flashlight on my suit,” Hunk suggested. 

“That’ll lead them right to you,” Pidge countered. “Their tech doesn’t matter, anyway—even if they have BLIP tech, there are tons of different animals in the forest. We might just blend in.” 

“Unless they have something that can track human DNA,” Hunk said. 

“Running would be even more pointless then,” said Pidge. “I think staying at the cave is still our best option. It’s more secure than anywhere else we’ve found.” 

“Good point,” Hunk agreed. “I’m coming back, then. Is the cloaking device still running okay?” 

Pidge glanced at the corner of the cave where they had propped her arm gauntlet. A shimmer rippled through the air around it, layering a near-translucent screen across the mouth of the cave. As she looked, a light on her gauntlet blinked green in even pulses. 

“Don’t know how long the charge will last, but it’s holding for now,” Pidge replied, pleased that her latest modification to the armor was proving useful. 

“All right, I’ll be back in a bit. Over and out.” 

“Roger,” Pidge confirmed, manually disconnecting the line. She left her helmet on despite how strange it felt to wear without her chest plate. It would be useful in case Hunk called back, but mostly Pidge wanted to keep her allergies from acting up again. Even in the barren cave, it had only taken a half hour for the histamines to find her. 

“All due respect, Green,” Pidge murmured, rolling her eyes, “but the forest really sucks. I just think you should know that. It’s the absolute worst.” 

She closed her eyes, trying to reach out for Green like she did whenever she flew. For a split second, she almost felt something—like a warm hand on her head, a gentle touch on the arm—but it faded away as soon as she reached for it. Frowning, she scrunched her eyes closed and focused as best she could on Voltron, but it felt like she was banging her head against a brick wall. 

“Ugh,” Pidge muttered, tossing her chest plate to the ground and sagging against the wall. Her shoulder sent dull waves of pain down her arm. “Hunk was able to talk to Yellow, why can’t I talk to you? Is it because I insulted the forest? I’m not taking it back, you know. It’s awful.” 

The Green Lion didn’t respond, making Pidge feel like a child playing make-believe. A memory came unbidden of Matt holding up a spoon, a teasing grin spread across his face. _“No, I promise, Pidge! You can make the spoon bend just like they showed on T.V., you just have to concentrate really hard!”_  

“Right, and I’m the Tooth Fairy,” she said, rolling her eyes. She wanted to scoff at the whole idea of being able to reach out across time and space to connect with the Green Lion. It already stretched her scientific doubt enough to believe that she could share a bond with an alien lion robot, but Pidge knew enough science to estimate how much information was still beyond her grasp. It stood to reason that humans just didn’t know enough about quintessence or inter-dimensional asteroids to create theories concerning them.

But sharing a mental bond with the Green Lion and the other paladins when they were flying was one thing. Trying to imagine that same bond when her Lion was millions of miles away was something completely different. 

 _Then how was Hunk able to do it?_ a traitorous voice in her mind asked. _How was Zarkon able to use his connection? He was separated from the Black Lion for over ten thousand years and he still almost stole him away from Shiro. How was that possible?_  

An even worse part of her wondered, _maybe it’s not about the Lions at all. Maybe you’re just not a good enough paladin._

The thought brushed too closely at something dark and unseen inside her, a burning seed of shame best left unearthed. Pidge hastily turned her thoughts away from that line of thinking. She took a deep breath, trying to refocus on something factual and helpful rather than continue down that fruitless path. 

The facts were simple: they were lost in an alien rainforest, actively hunted by damn near everything. They only had a small amount of food, water, and supplies between them. The bounty hunters were looking for them. And they still had no idea if the rest of their team was anywhere close to rescuing them. 

Oh, and Pidge had stupidly told Hunk that she might return his feelings, because of course this was absolutely the best time for _that_ conversation. They weren’t able to finish their talk, so now the entire thing just loomed over her like the sword of Damocles, threatening to kill her through sheer embarrassment if the damned rainforest didn’t get her first. 

Pidge sighed, not wanting to think about the whole awkward conversation but finding herself unable to focus on much else. She somehow felt both better and worse about the whole affair: relieved that the Hunk’s alleged crush was finally confirmed, grateful that his reaction to her reservations was nothing short of endearing, but terrified of the sudden pressure that seemed to weigh down on her shoulders.

 _He likes you and you like him_ , Pidge thought, gnawing at her bottom lip. It should be simple. All the movies would tell her that it was as easy as that, like the hardest part was the telling, not everything that came after. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning as she tried to wrap her brain around what that meant. Did they _have_ to kiss now? Did she have to start acting like the girls on television, all flirty and fawning and sweet? She couldn’t even picture what _that_ would look like. Lance would probably fall over with laughter. 

Mostly, Pidge couldn’t quite discern what the difference was supposed to be. She and Hunk were already best friends, easily her closest companion outside her family. But all the members of Team Voltron had become like a second family to her during the past year, clinging together in times of triumph and desperation. She loved all of them with an intensity she’d never known before the news flashed with the announcement of the Kerberos crash. They lived and loved and fought like family, until the very idea of losing any of them made her heart hurt just as bad as losing her father and Matt. Hunk was her best friend, but she felt just as fondly toward everyone else. So, what made Hunk different? 

 _You don’t want to kiss everyone else_ , Pidge thought, a faint flush burning her cheeks. If she was being honest, she wasn’t even sure about kissing, but the idea felt more appealing than it ever had when she tried to picture it in middle school. It lingered in her mind, as warm and sweet as fresh peanut butter cookies. 

Pidge leaned her head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling of the cave in frustration as she abandoned that line of thought as well. It was too dark to make out any details now that the light outside was on its last legs, but she pretended that she could see sketches of lions lining the jutting stone. Closing her eyes, she thought, _maybe the Green Lion will hear me if I just focus harder—_  

Nothing. 

Her shoulder throbbed.

Pidge groaned, slumping forward and propping her arm on bent knees. As she rested a hand against her neck, she could feel hot sweat through her glove and made a face. Was it really that humid? The air didn’t feel as warm as it had before, but apparently her body wasn’t getting the message. 

 _Maybe that’s why he likes me_ , Pidge considered with none too little sarcasm. _Constant sweating is super attractive._  

Before she could entertain another useless thread of thought, her communicator crackled to life. 

“Hey, I’m outside,” Hunk said, “but your cloaking is working a little too well in the dark—” 

“That’s not a bad thing,” Pidge replied, pleased for the distraction from her endless thoughts. Her shoulder complained as she pushed to her knees and crawled over to her gauntlet. Deactivating the cloaking device, she said, “Welcome back.” 

Hunk scrambled in, lit more by the glow of his armor than the scarce light outside. As she reactivated the cloak, he held out a handful of the same yellow fruit from before. “I figured we’d need some more food, but it was getting too dark to try searching for anything else.” 

“It’s fine,” Pidge said, grabbing a piece as she settled back against the wall. “Eating is a good idea—I think I’ll need to take another pill soon.” 

“It’s hurting again?” 

“Yeah,” she said, prodding the hot skin around her bandage. “And it feels kind of swollen? If the meds are anything like ibuprofen, it might help with that.” 

“We really need Coran to give us a follow-up lesson on all this Altean stuff,” Hunk said, ruffling through his belt. It was hard to see anything in the dark of the cave, even with the armor light to help, but she could still see his general movements. He held out another pill and dropped it into Pidge’s waiting hand. “I still don’t like the idea of you taking too many of those. What if it’s something super addictive?” 

“I’m sure rehab will be a fun challenge after we’re done being stranded on an alien death planet,” Pidge quipped. She could just barely make out Hunk’s long-suffering stare and grinned at him. Taking a bite of her fruit, Pidge asked, “Speaking of, do you have any ideas on how we’re going to do that?” 

“Well, there’s a spaceship here now,” Hunk suggested, shrugging as he selected a piece of fruit for himself. “It’s full of bounty hunters who want to kidnap us, but it _is_ on the planet.” 

“You think we should steal it?” Pidge asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“I don’t see any better options, other than waiting for the Castle to find us,” Hunk replied. “We don’t know how long your cloaking device is going to last. Even if they don’t start searching until morning, we’re kind of sitting ducks here.” 

Pidge considered his point, glancing at the mouth of the cave. Any errant starlight was so well blocked by the canopy that she could barely make out the semi-circle of dirt just outside the stone. “We won’t be able to do anything until morning either,” she noted. 

“Good, I need some sleep,” Hunk said, tossing the remaining core of his fruit to the corner and lying down near the mouth of the cave. “We can schedule the start of our new career as high-stakes ship thieves for tomorrow morning.” 

Pidge watched him get settled, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Whether due to her awkwardness or his own, Hunk didn’t seem anymore eager to resume their conversation than she was, but it didn’t feel like things were weird. She felt some of her lingering tension fade away with the knowledge that their friendship was still solidly intact. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Pidge replied, finishing her fruit and taking her pill with a gulp of water. She lay carefully down on the hard ground, shoulder protesting all the while, but her mind was already spinning with ideas on how they were going to steal their ride home. It was a welcome relief from worrying about Lions and relationships. 

Priority one: get back home. 

She could deal with everything else after that.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, everything felt ten times worse. 

“Did you jar your shoulder in your sleep or something?” Hunk asked, hovering anxiously as Pidge swallowed another pain pill. Her hand was shaking as it gripped the water container, reflecting a weakness that seemed to radiate through her entire body. 

“I don’t know,” Pidge replied, bracing herself against the throbbing in her shoulder. It didn’t hurt as bad as when she was first injured, but it was quickly approaching that level. “Everything just feels awful. The pill must have worn off in my sleep.” 

“Maybe we should go with plan B,” Hunk said hesitantly, looking between Pidge and the mouth of the cave. The cloaking device was still active, but the light had changed from green to yellow. It blinked slowly in the dim morning light. 

“No,” Pidge protested, “We can’t just wait here for them to find us. The gauntlet is going to run out of charge today. It’s now or never.”

Hunk still looked dubious. 

“I’ll be fine once this pill kicks in,” Pidge assured him. “It’s probably just the heat getting to me.” 

If anything, her statement only made Hunk look more concerned. “Pidge, it’s not that hot out.” 

“What?” 

“Take off your helmet,” Hunk instructed. His tone had gone rigid, brokering no nonsense, and Pidge begrudgingly pulled her helmet off. Hunk laid a hand on her forehead and winced. “You have a fever. Oh shit, you have a fever.”

The implication was obvious. “It’s infected, isn’t it?” Pidge asked, looking down at her bandaged shoulder. It didn’t look much different, but she knew most of the difference would be hidden. 

“I mean, the scans aren’t reliable for illness, so we can’t know for sure unless we unwrap it. But I don’t want to do that,” Hunk said, bending close and examining the edges of the wrap. “We don’t have anymore bandages and I don’t want it to start bleeding again. But your skin feels hot and swollen. Adding in the fever, my guess would be infection.”

“Isn’t that a little quick?” Pidge asked, tone pitching higher with worry. “I mean, don’t infections normally take longer to kick in?” 

“Who knows what kind of freaky bacteria they have here?” Hunk guessed, sitting back and staring at her shoulder with a conflicted expression on his face. “And it was a pretty nasty bite.” 

Pidge sighed. “This is going to make stealing that ship so much worse.” 

“Wait, what?” Hunk said, narrowing his eyes at her. “You can’t—your wound’s _infected_ , you shouldn’t be—” 

“Shouldn’t be what?” Pidge cut him off. “There are only two of us, Hunk, against _four_ of them. You can’t take them all on yourself. The best plan is to sneak on board and swipe the ship under their noses, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for you to swing by and pick me up.”

“I could make it work,” protested Hunk. 

“Only if you plan on killing all of them,” Pidge replied, her tone flat. 

Hunk winced. 

Pressing the advantage, Pidge continued, “Look, it’s a crappy situation, but I’m not just going to wait here in the cave. Our best shot is to steal that ship, and I’d rather be helping you out there than sitting in a cave worrying about you. We’re probably only going to get one shot at this and I want us to have the best odds we can.” 

After a long pause, Hunk said, “But what if we have to fight them?” 

“Then we fight,” Pidge replied. Her words sounded less than confident, but she doggedly clung on to the small amount of courage she could muster. “I fight better from a distance anyway.” 

“And if we have to kill them?” Hunk asked, meeting her eyes with a heavy gaze. It spoke to how long they’d been paladins that Pidge couldn’t hear any anxiety or shock in his tone. Instead, Hunk just sounded tired. 

Pidge wasn’t sure what depressed her more: that Hunk had grown numb to the idea of killing, or that she wasn’t even surprised. Sometimes, after an exhausting battle or particularly trying day, she’d find herself thinking, _aren’t we supposed to be teenagers?_ _What kind of life is this?_

Regardless, Pidge could hear the tacit agreement in Hunk’s words, so she let her building argument fade away. Quietly, she said, “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. We’ll just steal the ship and—I don’t know, call space 911 for them or something.” 

“I’m pretty sure Voltron is space 911 at this point,” Hunk replied, a sardonic lilt to his tone, “but that sounds like the best we can hope for.” 

She shot him a grin as she bent over to retrieve her chest plate. Pulling it over her head, Pidge asked, “Any ideas for how to pull off this ship stealing? I have a few thoughts on how to sneak on board, but we’re going to need a distraction.” 

“Yeah, I was thinking about that,” Hunk said as he carefully helped to secure her armor around her injured shoulder. A spark of new energy in his eyes, Hunk asked, “How are your holograms these days?”

 

* * *

 

A scream ricocheted through the forest. 

Before the last reverberations finished echoing, Pidge was already scrambling through the underbrush. It was a difficult trek even without her shoulder forcing her to slow down, but the combination of her injury and pain pills made it extra exhausting. She weaved up the side of a hill until she reached a small outcropping that overlooked the lowland area from which she’d come. 

She collapsed next to Hunk, breathing heavily. “How’s it looking?” 

“I think we got their attention,” Hunk reported, eyes locked on the far edge of the valley. The fog was lighter than the day before, but it still made the air misty. If Pidge squinted, she could just make out a gleaming silver ship between the trees. Activating her helmet’s binoculars, she focused in on the grove where Unlao’s team had made camp. As she looked, Hunk confirmed, “Yep, all three of them are coming this way.”

“Three?”

“The pilot isn’t with them,” Hunk said. He glanced up at her, not moving from his prone position near the edge of the drop-off. His armor looked strange with both sleeves of his undershirt missing, but Pidge figured she didn’t look much better with her arm tied against her chest. “How’re you holding up? 

“I’m fine,” Pidge replied, forcefully ignoring the hot pulse of her injury. The drugs weren’t able to do much more than mask the pain, and she could still feel it threatening with every breath. “Just tired. Are they close enough yet?” 

“Nah, give them a few more minutes. How’s the charge looking?” 

Pidge checked the battery on her gauntlet. “Still yellow. Let me know when they’re close enough to see it.” 

They waited in anxious silence, listening to the sound of birds and bugs grow louder as the early morning bloomed warm with the rising sun. They had managed to avoid any more encounters with strange wildlife so far, but Pidge kept a wary eye on the forest lining their chosen perch for any potential threats. 

“Okay, get ready,” Hunk said, roughly five minutes later. 

Repositioning her gauntlet, Pidge aimed it carefully at the spot they’d marked earlier. She activated the hologram program. Nearly one hundred yards away, a slightly off-color version of herself appeared. She made a face at the poor quality of the hologram, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. Reducing the dimensions of her image made the projection the correct size at such a far distance, but it washed out the colors too much to be accurate. 

“Prepare to run away in three—two—one—” 

Pidge sprung her hologram into action as Hunk finished his countdown, making her projected image spring from the site in panic. Even on the ledge, she could hear Veera’s victorious whoop followed by crashing sounds as the bounty hunters pursued their target. 

“Okay, on my back, let’s go—” Hunk said, scrambling to his feet. 

Pidge looped an arm around his neck and braced herself on his back, trying her best not to move her injured shoulder. A prideful part of her mourned having to be carried like a little kid, but it was drowned out by a much louder voice of practicality. Hunk would be able to move much faster than she could and they couldn’t afford any wasted time. 

Hunk ran through the thick forest with relative ease, having paced the path earlier that morning. Pidge tried to maintain a lookout, but every step jarred her shoulder in painful bursts, leaving her breathless. Eventually, she tucked her head against the back of Hunk’s neck and focused on holding on, jaw clenched against the throbbing ache. 

Eventually Hunk slowed, approaching the campsite with greater caution as they drew near. The ample wildlife provided plenty of cover, though Pidge eyed the ground warily for any suspicious life forms. 

“Hey, set me down,” she whispered to Hunk once they were close enough to see the ship clearly. He knelt down and she slipped off his back, trying her best to keep quiet. Gesturing for him to hold up his gauntlet, Pidge angled it at the ship and pulled up the equipment scanner. It felt weird using someone else’s gauntlet, but with her injured arm braced against her chest, her options were limited. 

“Okay,” Pidge said after reviewing the scan. “It looks like it’s a Class Delta Zapphine Patrol Craft. Pretty old, like you guessed. I think they’ve stopped making these.”

“What are our options?” Hunk asked, examining the scan with a keen eye. “It looks like there’s a pair of emergency escapes near the engines.” 

After some consideration, Pidge shook her head. “Too visible. We should try for something closer to the tree line in case they have surveillance.” She focused on the relevant side of the ship for a few moments before pointing to a section near the middle. “Stores on-load portal. Should be pretty easy to hack.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Hunk said, shrugging. He deactivated the scan, looking up to find the portal in question. It was roughly one hundred feet away from their position, but most of that distance was too exposed. Hunk pointed to a section further away, where the distance between the tree line and the ship was much smaller. “If we cross there, the ship will give us cover.” 

Pidge nodded, nerves tight in her throat as she moved to follow him. They crept quickly through the trees, staying as quiet as they could despite the rough terrain. 

Despite her efforts to hold steady, her shoulder ached with every step. Her skin felt hot even with her armor trying to keep her cool, no doubt exacerbated by the torn sleeve on her undersuit. She kept her eye on the portal in question, trying to focus through the sweat dripping down her face and the sting in her shoulder. She could worry about those things once they made it off planet. 

Hunk led the way to the treeline, taking care to crouch as low as he could to avoid detection. After a few moments of tense observation, he murmured, “Okay, coast looks clear—let’s do this.” 

Needing no further prompting, Pidge darted from the tree line, following his path to the shadow of the ship. Their intended entrance was only thirty feet away, and she was already reviewing the steps she’d need to hack the door. _Tap into sysadmin—decrypt the security access—reroute bridge commands—_

Eyes on the portal, Pidge didn’t see the new shadow approaching until it was too late.

“I thought that felt too convenient,” a low voice said when they were only ten feet away from the door. 

Pidge and Hunk froze. 

Unlao slithered toward them from the opposite direction, where one of the engines had blocked his approach. He held a gun pointed at them as he made his way forward, slit eyes glaring. 

“Then I thought, what would I do if I was lost on an alien planet?” Unlao continued. His conversational tone was belied by the malice in his approach. “I guess the Voltron paladins aren’t so far above us petty thieves after all.”

A million options tore through her head, each as disastrous as the last, but Pidge knew in an instant their plan was blown. 

“Run!” she yelled, using her good arm to whip her bayard at Unlao. 

He dodged, but the edge of her bayard clipped his gun and sent it flying. A blast of gunfire at her side told her Hunk had similar ideas, but Unlao moved quickly. He managed to evade the blast, flinging himself away in a graceful arc. 

Pidge spun around and ran back to the tree line. If Unlao was back, she had to assume Veera and Zzipteh were on their way, if they weren’t already here— 

Hunk ran alongside her, breathing hard. They were nearly at the trees when something grabbed Pidge’s foot and yanked, throwing her to the ground with an agonizing burst of pain. Fire erupted in her shoulder, stealing her breath and choking her cries. The grip around her ankle tightened, dragging her back— 

She looked up just as Hunk sent a blast of gunfire at the tentacle around her ankle. Unlao screeched in pain and released her, the remains of his limb lying mangled on the ground. 

Pidge clambered to her feet, breathing hard through the pain. She turned to see another tentacle whipping at her head and stumbled back, but Hunk jumped in front of her before it hit. 

Hunk caught the tentacle around his forearm. It wrapped around his arm guards and slid across bare skin, trying to yank him forward, but Hunk barely budged. He lifted his bayard with the other arm and fired another blast. The shot narrowly missed, but it forced Unlao to jump back to avoid it, releasing his slimy grip. 

“Run run _run_!” Hunk shouted, spinning and following Pidge into the forest. The trees flashed by in a panicked blur as they ran, focused on the crashing sound of pursuit behind them. 

Hunk overtook Pidge shortly, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her along in his wake, scrambling through the underbrush as fast as they could. She didn’t dare look back at Unlao, who tore after them, cursing in fury. 

They ran in a blind sprint, desperation fueling their steps. 

Pidge gasped for air, chest burning, but she didn’t dare try to stop. Hunk weaved through the trees with more power than grace, stomping the underbrush flat in his wake, and dimly, she thought, _we’re leaving an easy trail to follow—_  

There wasn’t anything they could do about it. She bolted through the foliage behind him, speed her only concern. Her lungs were on fire and her side ached like a dagger was slowly sliding through her abdomen. The world narrowed down to the next step, next breath, next step, next—

After a few minutes, her hyper focus dimmed just enough for Pidge to notice that she couldn’t hear Unlao as clearly anymore. Were they outpacing him? How could that possibly—? 

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. Humans had better endurance than any animal on Earth—could that apply to aliens as well? Pidge felt her heart leap, daring to hope that they might escape after all. 

Then Hunk stumbled, crashing to his knees on the hard ground. 

“Hunk?” Pidge asked, skidding to a halt. Hunk had collapsed onto his hands and knees. “Hunk, get up—” 

“I can’t—” His chest heaved as he tried to stand. “The slime—I can’t move…” 

He jerked his arm forward, trying to crawl, and Pidge abruptly realized what he was saying: the arm he’d used to block Unlao’s tentacle was coated with a clear thick slime, just like the kind that had knocked her out on Mata. 

“No,” Pidge breathed, eyes flying wide in horror. There was no way she could carry him. “No, no, Hunk, we have to go—” 

“Run,” Hunk said, locking eyes with her. “Now! Get out of here!” 

“No, not without you—” 

“If they catch both of us, we’re dead,” Hunk cut her off, desperation in his eyes. He trembled, shuddering from the effect of the drugs, and fell down onto his elbows. “He’s coming, _you have to go_ —” 

“Hunk,” Pidge cried, clutching his hand. She could hear Unlao drawing closer with every passing second, but she couldn’t look away from Hunk. His pupils were blown wide from the drugs, already nearly unconscious. 

“ _Run_ ,” Hunk pleaded. 

She was struck by the sudden, irrational urge to kiss him, torn between her impossible choices and hating how much this felt like a goodbye. He was right, she knew he was right, but the idea of leaving him terrified her more than staying. 

She _couldn’t_ — 

But he was right. 

Blinking tears from her eyes, Pidge gripped his hand and swore, “I’ll save you, I _promise_.” 

Hunk’s eyes slid shut. 

She hesitated a split second longer, feeling her heart break as she forced herself to let his hand drop. 

Then, before she could change her mind, Pidge ran.

 

* * *

 

The red light on her gauntlet taunted her. 

Pidge stared at it blankly, watching it blink down the seconds. By her estimate, she had about an hour of power left, maybe less. The power reading on their suits wasn’t as reliable as she was used to, but since the armor automatically charged with the Lions whenever they piloted, it had never been an issue before. 

Maybe she’d run tests and install a proper gage when she got back to the Castle. 

 _If_ she ever got back to the Castle. 

Pidge tightened her arm around her knees. She was still curled up in a dense spread of foliage, tucked between two hopefully non-poisonous bushes, but she’d have to move soon. The cloaking drained her battery faster than any other application, and once it shut down she’d be completely exposed. 

She needed a plan.

After leaving Hunk, she’d only made it a few hundred feet further before her legs threatened to give out, forcing her to improvise a hiding spot. Without her cloaking, Pidge knew she would have been caught. Twice, Veera had come within feet of her chosen hideaway while searching for her, and Pidge thanked her lucky stars that none of the bounty hunters had senses good enough to pierce her tech. 

Now she was alone. Veera and Zzipteh had given up searching in her area nearly half an hour ago, leaving Pidge alone with nothing but the creeping darkness of the forest around her. She was exhausted, her injured shoulder throbbing with increasing heat as the time ticked by. Her throat felt like sandpaper, but she and Hunk had packed up the purifiers before their escape attempt and she didn’t dare risk a trip to the lake for more water. She felt so weak that she doubted she’d win a fight with a wet paper bag at this point, much less any of the bounty hunters.

But she needed a plan. 

Pidge stared resolutely at the ground, head resting heavily against her arm. She’d promised Hunk she’d save him, but she’d been hiding out for over an hour without any semblance of an idea _how_ to do that. What could she possibly do? The element of surprise was gone—the bounty hunters knew full well that Pidge wouldn’t just leave Hunk, and they made that clear through their taunts as they searched for her. 

 _“You wouldn’t want to leave your fellow paladin all alone, would you?”_

_“Don’t worry, Green, we’ll treat him just fine—”_

_“Too bad Yellow has a coward for a partner!”_

Frustration burned in her eyes as the memory of their jeers spun endlessly through her head. 

She had abandoned Hunk. Yes, he told her to do it, but that didn’t change anything. He was still a prisoner while she was free. Pidge felt her stomach clench with worry that the bounty hunters would give up and leave, opting to settle for Hunk’s bounty alone. Every moment she waited, the likelihood that the bounty hunters might leave only increased, putting her in an impossible vice between capability and time. 

Pidge had never felt so useless in her life. 

Bugs crawled around in the tangled grass by her feet, pulling her focus as she desperately tried to come up with a plan. 

The facts were bleak: she was injured and sick, leaving her with only one functioning arm and an increasingly weak body. The bounty hunters knew she was somewhere in the forest and could reliably assume she’d try to rescue Hunk, removing any hope of taking them by surprise. 

Worse, they had Hunk. Pidge doubted Unlao would feel any qualms about hurting Hunk if he thought it would make Pidge give herself up. He had done it before.

Pidge felt almost as hopeless as she had the night of the Kerberos crash announcement, after finding Matt’s grave, on _Naxzela_ —

Hot tears burned in her eyes as she fought back the urge to cry. 

Why had she left him? Even if they were both captured again, at least they’d be captured _together_. They were paladins of Voltron, brothers in arms, and she had just _left_ him to be captured. She should have fought, no matter what Hunk told her to do. Even if she was taken with him, at least that would be better than sitting alone in the forest, injured and terrified and without any semblance of a plan to get him _back_ — 

As she trembled, trying to hold back tears, Pidge felt a cool breeze sweep across her fevered brow. 

Her breath caught in her throat.

Without warning, the rainforest grew louder around her, overtaking her senses until Pidge felt like she was about to pass out. Despite this, she didn’t feel scared. It felt like she was being brought into a familiar embrace, warm arms wrapping around her and soothing the pain away. The sounds and smells of the forest barraged her heightened senses until they all spun together, a cacophony of interconnected processes that reminded Pidge of being on Olkari, holding her hand to a tree and feeling the life of the ecosystem around her for the first time— 

Breathlessly, Pidge whispered, “…Green?” 

The response wasn’t so much an answer as a feeling, a sense of undisputable _rightness_ that hit her mind with such force it felt like the entire forest was rushing in on her. She could tell that her guess pleased Green without words, feeling it down to the tips of her toes. It was the same sensation Pidge felt when flying her Lion, like her body had merged with another’s. 

It took a moment for Pidge to realize that she’d done it. Green was here to help her, just like how Yellow had helped Hunk. She had no idea how it worked, but the sheer rush of relief was enough to wash away any confusion. 

“Oh, _Green_ ,” Pidge whispered, closing her eyes and reveling in the cool comfort of her Lion. “I have no idea what to do—” 

Green did not answer with words. 

Instead, Pidge was hit with a barrage of images and smells and sounds so intense that she nearly fell over, eyes flying wide. Rather than seeing the small patch of forest around her, Pidge could suddenly sense the entire stretch of the rainforest sprawling for miles and miles over the hills of the alien world. Trees stretched up to the sky to drink in the light of the sun, leaves glistening bright from the morning dew. Below the patchwork canopy, the jungle teemed with life, and Pidge could feel the thrum of the forest’s heart beating through every plant and animal. The variety of species was endless, from flowers and ferns to birds and bugs and giant hunting cats— 

She felt the satisfied slumber of a gigantic snake curled in a tree a mile away, stomach full of lizard eggs— 

—the busy rush of a hive of luminescent pink bees, swarming around a lush grove of rainbow flowers— 

—muscles of a yellow-furred monkey tensing just before it leapt— 

—vines creeping along the forest floor, crawling up the rough bark of the trees— 

—dark pupils expanding as prey scurried closer, claws emerging to dig into soft dirt— 

Pidge staggered backwards under the deluge of sensation. She caught herself on her good arm, but her injured shoulder screamed from the reverberation, pain pulling her sharply from the flood. She trembled, scarcely breathing as she tried to grasp what she was seeing, too overwhelmed to comprehend much more than the rainforest as a whole—any attempt to focus left her spinning from the endless input, millions of life experiences whirling through her mind— 

Green settled around her, her presence a steady weight against the storm. Pidge managed to take a shaky breath, leaning into Green’s embrace and letting her Lion guide her—

She saw herself, tucked small and scared beneath the thick foliage. 

She saw Veera searching through the forest nearly one hundred feet away, hacking through the thick brush with scorn and talking on her communicator in a language Pidge didn’t recognize. 

The ship was still parked in the grove, but now Pidge could see Sepsuni working on the engines outside. Unbeknownst to her, a jaguar monster watched from the shadows. Pidge could feel the low rumble of its hunger, eyes gleaming as it eyed the distance between the tree line and the ship. 

Green’s guidance led her vision away from the ship, drifting outside the grove until it came to a large outcropping of rock. Her breath caught in her throat as Pidge saw Hunk leaning against the boulder with thick cables tied around his arms and legs. They had left his armor on this time, though his helmet and bayard had been removed and placed out of reach. A familiar silver circlet was locked around his neck. 

Despite the dark bruising across his cheek and exhausted look in his eyes, Hunk glared balefully at Unlao and Zzipteh standing guard nearby. 

“—doesn’t see the point,” Zzipteh was saying. “Better payout, yes, but how much time is being wasted just _searching_ —” 

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Unlao snapped. “I refuse to let good money rot in a forest. Get back out there and search. The little brat couldn’t have gotten far. Now go _find her_.” 

“Zzipteh and Veera didn’t see any sign—” 

“Well, maybe this will help,” murmured Unlao. He glared over at Hunk and pressed a button on his display pad. 

Hunk jerked in pain as a buzz vibrated through the air, muffling his screams through clenched teeth. 

“Oh, you can do better than that,” Unlao prodded, tapping a few more buttons. 

This time, Hunk screamed out loud, shuddering in pain. Pidge could see bright tears in his eyes as he trembled, struggling against the binding around his limbs. 

The buzzing abruptly stopped, leaving Hunk slumped weakly against the rocks. 

“Better hope your friend shows up,” Unlao sneered, watching Hunk gasp for breath. “Or I might decide it’s more satisfying to make you pay for _wasting my time_.”

Pidge stared through Green’s eyes, her entire being whittled down to the image of Hunk lying bound against the rocks. The world had gone cold in her chest, icy rage freezing the air in her lungs. 

She stared at Unlao, fury unlike anything she’d ever known overtaking every sense. She no longer cared about getting off the planet. She no longer felt hunger or thirst. The lingering exhaustion and pain from her injury vanished, leaving her empty of everything but the burning drive to make their enemies _pay_. 

Green growled, echoing the sentiment with the vicious lust of a hunter. 

Pidge tore her gaze away from Unlao, reaching her awareness out into the rainforest and embracing the onslaught of sensations that hit her. 

Eyes closed, she voiced one simple thought. 

 _How?_  

The forest rushed to answer. 

Pidge opened her eyes, green glowing bright in the dim light.

 

* * *

 

Zzipteh stopped short when he came across the trunk of a downed tree, looking up at the sight before him in shock. 

Pidge had felt him approaching, his footsteps light and nimble on the overgrown forest floor. He’d have been quieter if he hadn’t been muttering complaints under his breath, but Pidge would have known he was there regardless. She could feel the weight of his boots as they crunched over the crisscrossing vines along the ground. 

She opened her eyes, staring down at him from her cross-legged perch on the trunk. 

“Hello, Zzipteh,” Pidge said. She didn’t bother to mask the scorn in her tone. “You’re not a very helpful guide.” 

Zzipteh watched her suspiciously, not moving any closer to the downed tree. He lifted his gun and aimed it at her, saying, “Zzipteh did not expect it to be quite this easy.” 

He took a few steps closer to the center of the small meadow, stepping lightly over vines as he squared himself against her. He looked around warily, bug eyes wide and wings twitching. 

“Maybe I’m tired of hiding,” Pidge suggested, the lie slipping easily through her teeth. She felt her body’s pain and exhaustion like a distant memory, bolstered by Green and fueled on the abundant life in the forest around her. 

Even now, she could feel the hunt thrumming in her veins as Green purred her approval. The vines began to twitch in interest. 

Pidge smiled. 

Zzipteh stared at her, clearly not expecting her serene response and unsure how to react. After a brief pause, he huffed in annoyance and hefted his gun higher, aiming it more firmly at her. Without wavering his gaze, he tapped his wrist display and said, “Unlao, Zzipteh has found the child.” 

“I’m not a child,” Pidge interjected. “I’m a paladin of Voltron.” 

She enjoyed the way the familiar words flowed from her tongue, feeling Green’s roar of support down to her very bones. The world grew hyper-focused as Green drifted closer to the surface, her presence as steady and powerful as a ruler surveying her kingdom. 

Based on the alarmed way that Zzipteh stumbled back, she assumed he could sense it too. 

“Your eyes,” Zzipteh said, mystified. “They—they’re glowing. What are you doing?” 

From his communicator, Pidge could hear Unlao calling for more information, but it was just one sound among a million threads of activity that whirled through her mind. Leaves rustled in the wind far overhead as birds soared through the branches, energy weaving down through the trees and digging deep into the earth. Bugs crawled over grass and leaves beneath Zzipteh’s feet, scurrying out of the way as he tripped over thick vines. 

Pidge couldn’t help feeling a surge of triumph as she saw the vines stirring around his ankles. 

“The Green Lion is hunting, Zzipteh,” Pidge replied, the words emerging unbidden from her lips. She could feel herself trembling under the force of Green’s presence, a strange green glow overtaking her vision. It was like she was no longer in control of her body, Green so thoroughly present that Pidge felt nearly crushed beneath her. 

“What?” Zzipteh stammered. He sounded confused. 

Green smirked. Coldly, they said, “You’re the prey.” 

Before Zzipteh could fully register her statement, vines began wrapping around his legs at a blistering pace, locking him in a tight grip. Zzipteh screamed as the vines yanked him down, pinning his arms by his side before he could try to shoot at them. His gun toppled to the ground uselessly as they started pulling him back toward a gigantic plant at the edge of the tree line. 

Pidge stared at the blooming red flower in silence, feeling its hunger as it dragged its prey closer to rows of spiny teeth. Green growled gleefully, her presence less overwhelming now that the predator had struck. 

Zzipteh screamed and fought against the vines, but they held tight around him. The plant loomed overhead, pulling him up and wrapping its blood-red petals around his head, muffling the panicked shrieks as sharp teeth tore into his flesh. 

His screams abruptly cut out. 

Pidge felt his thread of life snap like a guitar string, the searing pain of death scoring deep in her soul. She staggered back, catching herself on the bark of the tree trunk just before she slipped off, legs hovering just shy of the swarming vines below. 

Her eyes went wide, panic catching in her throat. She knew without question that a single misstep would be her last. The forest ran wild beneath her fingertips, every movement reported but utterly outside her control. The vines would drag her to her death just as readily as they had Zzipteh. 

Taking a deep breath, Pidge slowly hauled herself back on top of the trunk with her good arm, shaking violently as she listened to the plant tear Zzipteh’s body apart. She crouched on the bark, arm wrapped around her knees and eyes staring blankly at the visceral scene before her. 

She felt hot tears on her cheeks before she even realized she was crying.

Clenching her eyes shut, Pidge tucked her head into her knees. Her entire body shuddered with a sob. She could hear blood gushing messily as the plant devoured Zzipteh, bones cracking under the force of the vines as his death stained a black mark on her heart. 

Green smothered her with warmth, forcing the weakness of her body further away from her mind and pushing strength back into her bones, but Pidge could tell that Green didn’t understand the grieving of her soul. Green was a predator, the guardian spirit of the forest. Life was balanced with death, neither more sacred than the hunt itself. Predators killing prey was the natural order of things. 

If Green hadn’t been blocking her physical reactions, Pidge was pretty sure she would have thrown up. She still wanted to. The grisly sight before her tore into her heart like sandpaper. 

But there wasn’t time for regret.

Pidge took a deep breath and forced herself to stand up. She shot her bayard to a tree at the edge of the meadow, locking onto a thick branch and swinging past the carnage on the ground with her good arm. 

Clear of the vines, Pidge closed her eyes, driving the images from her mind and focusing only on the task ahead. 

“One down,” she whispered. 

Green growled in anticipation of the hunt.

 

 

* * *

 

Pidge approached the boulder by the grove with careful steps. It didn’t take much effort to avoid tripping when every errant leaf broadcast its location to her mind, but she went slow nonetheless, watching the world around her with a wary eye. Pidge could imagine a thousand different ways for her next encounter to go wrong, Green Lion or not. 

She kept her good arm at her side, bayard activated. 

Tiny droplets of blood dripped from her fingers, pooling at the tips of her glove from a cut across the back of her arm. Pidge hadn’t felt any pain when she sliced it open. Even her mauled shoulder was quiet under the weight of the Green Lion, making Pidge feel oddly invincible. 

 _You just have to finish this_ , she thought, feeling her body tremble from the overload of power. _You can’t handle Green for much longer, so it has to be now—_  

She closed her eyes and extended her senses forward. Unlao and Veera were arguing along the tree line, tension clear through their stance, but Pidge didn’t bother to listen in. Sepsuni had abandoned her work on the engines to join them, sitting near Hunk and holding a blaster loosely across her knees. 

Pidge focused in on Hunk as best she could. He looked exhausted as he slouched against the rock. His neck was red and blistered around the silver collar. 

Green growled, snapping their eyes open with a rush of fury. 

Pidge moved forward, lifting her bayard in a battle stance. A couple drops of blood fell from her grip as she readied her stance, littering the ground below with tiny dots of red. 

She took another step, deliberately cracking a thin branch under her foot. 

Unlao and Veera stopped talking, their heads snapping over to her location. 

“What the—” Veera muttered, hand instinctively dropping to the dagger at her side. 

“Another hologram,” Unlao predicted. He turned to face Pidge, a sneer evident in his tone if not in his face. “I hope you don’t expect us to fall for that aga—” 

Pidge launched her bayard before he could finish, slicing a deep groove just over his eye. Dark green blood gushed out as she whipped her bayard back, catching it easily in hand. 

“Real enough for you?” Pidge asked, watching him reel back in pain. She could feel Green’s energy coursing through her body like electricity. Without waiting another moment, she whirled around and dashed away, running back the way she came. 

Behind her, Pidge heard Veera crashing through the foliage after her. Unlao snapped, “Watch him!” and followed, fury clear in his voice. 

Pidge ran as fast as she could, dodging bushes and branches as she fought to maintain her lead. Veera was easily faster than her. Pidge could hear her drawing ever closer, branches crushed beneath her feet as she stormed on. The Green Lion couldn’t make Pidge any faster. She could only help to predict the easiest path and silence her pain. Veera was twice her size and speed. In a fair fight, she would overtake Pidge easily. 

But Pidge didn’t plan on fighting fair. 

Gasping for breath, Pidge ran on, relying more and more on her extended senses to give her the edge. Every step was precise, every movement set to maximize her speed. She kept her eyes forward, trying to focus on her goal even as she heard Veera’s heavy breathing behind her, trailed by Unlao in pursuit. 

She crashed through thick weeds until she came to a cut-down patch, rerouting to follow the choppy path. Veera was steps behind her, nearly within an arm’s length, but Pidge could see the end of the path approaching, mere feet away— 

Pidge jumped and shot her bayard out to snag on the branch of a tree. The ground dropped away, bayard swinging her over the dark surface of the lake before pulling her up to the branch. 

Behind her, Veera shrieked a curse as she fell from the drop-off, plummeting to the lake below. 

Breathing heavily, Pidge clung to the branch. It hovered only ten feet above the bank, giving a clear view of the drop-off and the lake. She pulled herself up with her legs, feeling her good arm shaking under the strain. It was still shaking after she was finally seated upright on the branch. 

Down below, Veera clamored to the surface of the water, spitting curses as she looked around the dimly lit basin for her misplaced prey. Catching sight of Pidge, she barked a vicious laugh. “You think a little water is going to slow me down?” 

At the top of the drop-off, Pidge saw Unlao draw to a halt, slow enough to have heard the warning splash. He eyed the path down to the bank carefully before making his way down, guns held ready in both sets of tentacle arms. 

“You’re just making it harder for yourself, Green,” Unlao said as he approached. To Veera, he instructed, “Come around to block her exit.” 

“My species was born in the trees,” Veera boasted to Pidge, wading through the water toward her. “It’ll be easy to pull you down.” 

Pidge said nothing as she watched the lake. She could barely sense anything beneath the surface, muffled as it was by all the water. Her eyes darted warily to the banks, feeling more threats approach, and heard Green growling with anticipation in her mind. 

She clenched her jaw, nearly vibrating with the effort to contain the rush of power. The input from the forest shook beneath her skin like an earthquake, every heartbeat bringing a new attack. Pidge clung to the branch as tightly as she could, despite having one arm still bound and useless against her chest.

Unlao slithered toward her, tentacles sliding easily across the dirt. He aimed a gun up at her, threatening, “I’m perfectly fine giving the Galra an injured paladin—” 

Veera screamed before he could finish. 

Huge gray shapes launched from the lake, tearing at her with sharp teeth. Veera snarled, striking at them with equal ferocity, but the fish were relentless. The water grew dark with blood as they tore into her flesh, water roiling from their endless assault. 

“Veera!” Unlao cried, scrambling back along the bank. He stared at the frothing lake in horror. 

Veera staggered under the attack, faltering under their sheer numbers. She soon collapsed beneath the surface, screams cutting out. Pidge could still see her struggling under the rush of attacking fish, blood turning the water darker and darker until— 

Her thread of life snapped. 

Pidge shuddered, nearly falling from the tree as Green roared within her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling from the surge of power. It felt like trying to outlast a tornado, clinging to the ground uselessly as wind whipped around her, but she couldn’t lose her connection with Green, not yet, not until— 

“Is this your plan, then?” Unlao snarled, aiming his blaster up at her. “Using the wildlife to take us out?” 

Pidge stared at him in silence for a long moment, barely holding steady amid the storm in her mind. Then, managing a tiny smirk, she said, “It’s working, isn’t it?” 

“Cute,” Unlao sneered. Then he pulled the trigger. 

Pidge jerked in alarm, but the blast didn’t hit her. Instead, it tore through the branch she was sitting on. Pidge toppled forward, flung into the air for a few helpless seconds before slamming to the ground. 

The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and even Green couldn’t block the rush of agony from her wounded shoulder. The collision was enough to rattle her bones, tearing her focus asunder. Before she knew it, Pidge could feel her senses overextending as the sheer vastness of the forest overwhelmed her. It was too much power, too much input, too much for her to block out as she fought against her overworked body— 

In a snap, Green’s power vanished 

Pain seared across her body in an instant, nearly causing her to black out. Pidge shuddered under the burning agony, clinging to consciousness through terror alone. It was too early for Green to be gone—too much riding on her— 

Pidge snapped her eyes open as she heard the sound of a blaster charging. 

Unlao hovered over her, gun aimed at her head. 

“I should just shoot you here,” Unlao muttered in annoyance. “You cost me two of my best partners.” 

She said nothing, concentrating on catching her breath. The world was hazy with pain, sharp and agonizing and awful after being muffled by Green for so long. 

“More money for me, I guess,” Unlao murmured. He holstered his weapon and reached for her, tentacles slick with numbing slime. “Finally, we can—” 

The jaguar monster hit him without warning. 

Unlao screamed as he fell to the ground, crushed under the weight of the vicious beast. Pidge scrambled back in panic as the monster tore into Unlao, claws ripping through the thin fabric of his robes with ease. In an instant, the monster had torn out his throat, thick blood smeared across its muzzle as it ate. 

Without waiting another second, Pidge looked up to the tree above. She fired her bayard, hooking onto another branch and yanking herself up moments before a second cat landed where she had been. She hit the branch after a dizzying flight, clinging tight to the bark as she pulled herself up. 

She stared at the sight below, eyes wide with terror. 

Two monsters were tearing into Unlao’s body, dark green blood splattered across the dirt around them. Looking further along the bank, Pidge could see two more huge cats quickly approaching along the same path Pidge had followed

Apparently, her blood trail had attracted more monsters than she intended. 

Pidge sat up on her branch, wiping her blood-soaked glove against her stomach to prevent more droplets from drawing attention. She looked back down at the feast below and flinched at the gore. Unlao’s sightless eyes stared accusingly back up at her. 

She stood up on the branch, leaning against the tree trunk and shaking from exhaustion and pain. Green was gone, taking with her the blessed numbing effect of her presence, and Pidge nearly passed out from the sheer act of standing up. Her shoulder throbbed in hot pulses. 

Pidge eyed a tree near the drop-off. It hung over the lake, where the piranha still bubbled wildly, tearing at the hidden remains of Veera’s body. Her stomach clenched under a wave of nausea at the memory of her screams. 

She looked back down at the jaguar monsters. 

Three were still feasting, but one stared up at her, eyes black with intent. Pidge froze under its terrible gaze, fear jolting down her spine. 

Terror driving her, Pidge shot her bayard across the lake. It latched onto a branch and yanked her forward, swinging her across the water to the drop-off. Pidge landed with a heavy crash, falling to her knees, but she scrambled up hastily, dashing down the path as quickly as she could manage. 

She didn’t hear any of the cats following her, but that meant nothing. She could still feel cold predator eyes on her back, promising an equally violent death. 

Pidge ran to the grove, forest flying by her in a rush. Her breath came in aching gasps, weakness trembling in her bones as she tore through the foliage. She clung to her goal, forcing the burning pain in her shoulder away through sheer desperation, knowing that she needed to get back to Hunk before the jaguar monsters finished devouring Unlao. 

She stumbled toward the grove, catching sight of the boulder through the trees. _Finally_ , she thought, worry fueling her movements. _Finally, we can get out of he—_  

Before Pidge could go any further, a new voice shouted, “Stop!” 

Pidge looked over to see Sepsuni standing five feet away, gun pointed directly at her. Despite her stance, her eyes looked wide and panicked, clearly unaccustomed to confrontation. 

“Where’s Veera?” Sepsuni asked, her tone pitching in anxiety. “I heard her scream— what did you do? Where’s Unlao?” 

Pidge stared at her, breathing heavily. Even as she drew to a halt, the thrum of panic spurred her on, warning her against stopping. 

“Tell me!” Sepsuni cried. Her hands shook around the gun. “Tell me what happened to Vee—” 

“She’s dead,” Pidge said flatly. “So’s Unlao. And we will be too, if you don’t—” 

“Veera’s dead?” asked Sepsuni. She took a step back in shock, eyes flying wide. Her grip wavered a bit, but she soon refocused, glaring at Pidge with an angry growl. “You killed her!” 

“Yeah, I did,” Pidge snapped, holding up her bayard in the face of Sepsuni’s gun. “And now you need to let me through or we’re _all_ going to die.” 

Sepsuni narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What?” 

“Once those monsters are done eating Unlao, they’re going come after us,” Pidge explained. “You have two choices. You can let me go and run to your spaceship, or we could fight it out right here. I might not win, but I will _definitely_ make it last long enough for the monsters to find us before you can get away. What’s your choice?” 

Pidge barely recognized her own voice, as cold and biting as ice. She trembled as she waited for Sepsuni’s response, knowing that their chances for survival dwindled the longer they waited. She could still feel the jaguar monster’s eyes on her. 

After a long moment, Sepsuni lowered her gun, fear overtaking anger in her eyes. 

“Give me your display,” Pidge snapped, deactivating her bayard and holding out her hand. 

The pilot snapped the display off her wrist and tossed it to her. It fell to the ground. By the time Pidge swooped to grab it, Sepsuni had darted away, running full tilt toward her ship. 

Pidge ran in the opposite direction. It only took a few breathless minutes to reach the boulder, where Hunk was still leaning against the rocks, cables thickly looped around his arms and legs. 

“Pidge!” Hunk cried, his expression flooding with relief. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. She handed off the display before generating her bayard and carefully cutting through the cables around his arms. 

“Been better,” Hunk replied. “I can’t believe you just—I heard screaming, but I couldn’t tell what was going on. Are you okay?” 

“No,” Pidge answered honestly, clinging to consciousness through panic alone. The cables around his arms fell away, freeing him to unlock the collar around his neck as she started on his legs. “But we have to go, there’s a whole pack of those cat monsters coming and I left a trail—” 

Hunk’s eyes went wide. He threw the silver circlet to the ground as Pidge sliced through the final cords around his ankles. Without waiting, he grabbed Pidge’s good arm and pulled it across his shoulders, kneeling down with the clear intentions for her to climb on his back. 

Pidge didn’t protest, holding tight as Hunk started to run. She clung to awareness for a few minutes before the world began to blur around her. The sounds of the forest faded to the end of a long tunnel, quickly overwhelmed by the growing buzzing in her ears.

“I—,” Pidge began, too faintly to be heard. She had a vauge notion of giving warning, feeling the impending drop into unconsciousness, but the dizziness pulled her away too fast. Her grip on Hunk’s armor loosened, too weak to maintain its hold as she began to fade. 

She heard Hunk curse as he felt her slipping— 

—and then nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

 _Blood surrounded her._

_She heard screams in her ears as she ran, black trees looming as monsters lurked in the shadows. Bodies littered the ground at her feet._

_She tripped, landing heavily on something warm. Dead eyes stared up at her and she shrieked, leaping back. Her hands were soaked in blood._

_A growl echoed by her ear. She whipped around just in time to see a monster pounce—_

Pidge gasped, fear rattling her bones as she jerked awake. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” a voice said. It took a few terrified moments for her to focus on Hunk, who hovered over her with worried eyes. “You’re safe. Well—as safe as we can be. I’m here.” 

Pidge couldn’t stop shaking. “Safe?” 

“We’re back at the cave,” Hunk explained, gesturing to the familiar stone cavern around them. It was still relatively light outside, telling Pidge she couldn’t have been out for too long. “I figured it was the safest place to hide in case those cats come hunting.” 

“Okay,” Pidge said, trying to will away the lingering terror from her nightmare. She took a few deep breaths, but even that small movement made her shoulder throb painfully. She winced, asking, “Do we have any more pills?” 

“You probably have some in your belt,” Hunk answered. “We don’t have any water, though, and not much food. I don’t know if you should take one on an empty stomach... How do you feel?” 

Pidge didn’t even know how to answer. Everything felt terrible, from her lingering dizziness to the pain of her wound to the way she couldn’t stop shaking. She tried to figure out a way to encompass it all, but every attempt felt like she was grasping at clouds in her head. 

Finally, Pidge just replied, “Cold.” 

“You’re cold?” Hunk asked, frowning. 

“Yeah,” Pidge said. Her shoulder throbbed with hot pulses, belying her words, and she added, “And no. I don’t know. Everything feels awful. We don’t have any water?” 

Hunk bit his lip, brow furrowing. “I could try getting some water from the lake—” 

“No,” Pidge protested abruptly, eyes widening as a memory struck her. “No, that’s where—the cat monsters were there. They got Unlao.” 

“We’re going to need some water eventually,” Hunk said. “You—you’re getting worse. We need actual medicine.” 

“We need the Castle,” Pidge murmured, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. At some point, Hunk had removed her helmet and chest armor, leaving her slumped against the cold dirt. She shivered. “Have you seen anything? Any of the Lions?” 

“Not yet,” Hunk answered regretfully. “And the bounty hunters’ ship is gone. I don’t know which one took it, but it flew off while we were running—” 

“Sepsuni,” said Pidge. She tried to stay focused on Hunk, but her mind was cloudy. She felt like she was drifting along in the wind. With great effort, she added, “She took it.” 

“What?” 

“The pilot. She took the ship,” she explained. Then, heart heavy in her chest, Pidge added, “I killed everyone else.” 

There was a moment of awful silence as Hunk reacted to the admission. She stared up at him, fear and anger and guilt tightening around her throat, and tried not to see accusation in his eyes. 

“Oh, Pidge,” Hunk said, and that was enough to make tears blur her vision. 

“They were hurting you,” Pidge explained, voice trembling as she felt hot tears on her cheeks. She could still see Unlao’s sightless eyes glaring at her. “They were hurting you and I couldn’t fight them and then Green was helping me and—” 

“Pidge, no! It’s okay, really,” Hunk said, grabbing her free hand and leaning over her. She could barely see him through her teary vision. “You saved me, just like you promised. Please don’t cry—” 

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the awful memory of Zzipteh struggling against the vines and Veera’s pained screaming. The cat monsters glared at her in the dark, pupils blown wide and thick green blood dripping from their muzzles. The images barraged her, as gruesome in memory as they had been in person. 

If she had more energy, Pidge thought that she would have started sobbing like a little kid, beating against the images in her mind with useless fists. As it was, she just looked at Hunk through watery eyes, pain and exhaustion mixing like toxic chemicals in her blood. 

“I want to sleep,” Pidge pleaded. Her voice was thin and quiet, sounding as weak as she felt, and she mumbled, “Please, can I take a pill? I don’t need water, I just— I need—” 

 _I need to forget_ , she thought, tears burning in her eyes. _I need a break from the pain, from the screams, from the blood—_  

Pidge clenched her eyes shut, fighting against the images without success. She felt Hunk pulling at her belt, murmuring anxious assurances that never quite reached her ears. She focused on taking shaky breaths, trying to block out the images that lurked in the dark. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. 

“Here,” Hunk said, shaking her good shoulder. He helped her sit up, but even that small movement left her dizzy. Handing her a tiny pill, he said, “I’ll try to get water later, I promise, but you need to get better, Pidge, okay? Do you promise? I need you to get better.” 

There was a thread of fear in his voice that she had never heard before, something dark and disbelieving and pained. Pidge looked up at him, trying to find the words to comfort him but ending up at a loss. She swallowed the pill dry, her throat scratchy and parched, and shivered in his grasp instead. 

“Get some sleep,” Hunk said. He helped her lie back down, resting a hand on her forehead and brushing some of the hair from her eyes. He radiated concern as he looked down at her. “I’ll keep watch.” 

Pidge closed her eyes, tears watery under her lashes. 

She drifted in the dark, cold and alone.

 

* * *

 

The world was cold when she next awoke. 

Everything felt fuzzy, like she was wrapped in gauze. She leaned against something comfortable and warm, but there was an icy chill in her bones that she couldn’t shake. She shivered and tried to tuck closer to the heat beside her. 

“Pidge, I need you to eat this, okay?” Hunk said. Dimly, she realized he’d been talking for a while, but the words hadn’t clicked until just then. His voice was so close that she knew she must have been resting against his chest. “C’mon, just a little—” 

Something pressed against her mouth. She bit down, surprised by the sweet juice that burst on her tongue. She chewed slowly, every motion a trial. 

“Okay, good, have some more,” encouraged Hunk. “It’s not water, but it’s _something_.” 

She accepted the next bite, then the next, but soon her stomach twisted. She gagged around the fruit in her mouth, acid burning in her throat. She managed to swallow it, but her stomach was actively aching now as it tried to reject the fruit. 

“Pidge, please,” Hunk pleaded when she turned away from the next bit of fruit. 

“No,” Pidge managed, words scratching her throat. “M’gonna throw up…” 

“It’s making you sick?” 

Pidge murmured her assent, tucking her head against his chest as she tried to curl around her stomach. It roiled like an angry cat. 

“But you—,” Hunk started, distressed. “You need to eat something, Pidge. Your fever’s getting worse and I can’t get more water and watch you at the same time. The fruit is all we’ve got.” 

Pidge didn’t reply, words crushed under the dual weight of exhaustion and nausea. She shivered in Hunk’s grasp, trying to sink back into the comfort of sleep. Her shoulder throbbed against her efforts, pain barely contained beneath the drugs. 

“Pidge?” Hunk asked. When she didn’t respond, he sighed, voice shaky. “Great, this is just great. We’re stuck on this death planet with no water and exactly one fruit that’s kind of edible and Pidge is going to die because we don’t have any antibiotics. This is fan _tas_ tic. I love being a paladin. This isn’t going to scar me forever or anything.” 

Buried beneath the fuzziness, Pidge listened, lips twitching in a faint smile at the familiar sound of Hunk’s frustration. She managed to murmur, “Mm.” 

“You’re still awake?” 

“Mmyeah,” Pidge mumbled, finding it moderately easier to speak once she started. She kept her eyes closed, too tired to battle the weight of her eyelids. “Am I dying?” 

“I—no, you’re… you’re hurt and you need medicine, but you’re not dying,” Hunk stammered. She could hear a thread of disbelief in his voice. “It’s just—your shoulder is getting a lot worse. Your skin’s all red and blotchy.” 

The mention of skin triggered a memory from a class at the garrison. Frowning, Pidge muttered, “…lines?” 

“What?” 

Pidge tried to focus more, fighting against the fogginess in her head to ask, “Are there red lines?” 

There was a pause before Hunk answered, “Yeah, there are red lines coming from the wound. I think the infection is in your blood, Pidge. That’s why you’re feeling so much worse.” 

She shivered again, though this time it was layered with a tinge of fear. She felt weak and shaky, fighting against an infection that was spreading throughout her body as fast as her heart could pump it. Even now, clinging as best she could to consciousness, the weight of sleep threatened to drag her back under. 

It struck her very suddenly that if she fell asleep again, she might not wake up. 

Hunk spoke over the terror in her mind, a stream of assurances that did not block the desperation in his tone. “The others will find us, I’m sure of it. They were searching before and they were close, remember? And Altean medicine is really good—I bet Coran will just pop you in a cryo-pod and you’ll be good as new. We’ll be fine. We’re going to get out of this. We survived getting kidnapped and crashing a space ship and everything else this rainforest threw at us, didn’t we? Didn’t we, Pidge?” 

The fog was getting thicker.

Pidge tried to stay awake, but she could feel herself being pulled along with the tide of sleep. Dimly, she heard Hunk say her name a few more times before something pressed warm and gentle against her forehead. 

Surprise shot through Pidge as she realized what had happened. 

“…did you jus’ kiss me?” Pidge mumbled. 

“Uh—,” Hunk began, sounding awkward. “Yes?” 

A small smile flickered on her lips despite her weariness. Pidge said, “…kind of a shitty first kiss.” 

There was a pause as Hunk registered her comment. He scoffed, a faint laugh on his breath, and countered, “Well, maybe you should get better and we’ll try again, how about that?” 

He said it like a dare. Pidge wanted to laugh, but the haze around her mind grew too heavy to fight off anymore. She vaguely heard Hunk say something else, but she didn’t catch it as she finally lost the fight against her body. 

She was dragged under once more, comforted by the warmth in his tone even as she shivered all the more.

 

* * *

 

She floated beneath the tide, drifting close to the surface but never quite breaking through. Sometimes she could hear Hunk speaking but couldn’t make out the words. It was comforting nonetheless, his voice a rumble of thunder around her. 

Hot and cold warred inside her, wracking her body with shivers even as her shoulder throbbed hot with pain. As she slept on, she felt it less and less, and a small part of her worried about what that meant. 

The outside world barely existed in her pool of darkness, leaving Pidge with no idea how much time passed between her faint brushes with reality. She drifted unaware until a sharp movement pulled her close to waking. 

Moments later, she heard Hunk exclaim, “Pidge, they found us! Pidge!” 

She tried to wake up, but sleep held her firmly in its grasp. She moved slowly despite the movement around her, barely able to grasp what was happening. Things were changing. New voices filtered through the clouds in her mind. 

Finally, she blinked awake to see familiar blue eyes leaning over her.

“…Lance?” Pidge murmured, vision blurry in her exhaustion. 

“Yeah, of course it’s me,” Lance replied, flashing a warm smile. “Who were you expecting, Keith? You know that guy doesn’t have time to bother with us losers anymore.” 

“I’m standing right here, asshole,” someone muttered from somewhere behind him. 

“I have no idea who that guy is,” Lance told Pidge. Despite his joking grin, his eyes were dark and concerned as he scanned her injuries. 

Pidge stared blankly at him, not getting the joke. Slowly, she asked, “…what guy?” 

Lance bit his lip, brow furrowed. Keith’s face suddenly swam into view, staring down at her in worry. 

“Move now, jokes later,” Shiro said, as he appeared on her other side. He scooped her up, pressing her against his broad chest. He stared down at her warmly, worry showing only through the crease in his forehead. “We’ve got you now, Pidge. Don’t worry.” 

The world shifted around her rapidly as Shiro began to run. Pidge closed her eyes against the shuddering movement, pain flaring anew in her shoulder. She hovered on the verge of consciousness, fog drifting through her mind. 

Before she passed out again, Pidge managed to ask, “…Hunk?” 

“Allura has him,” Shiro replied. “We’re almost there, Pidge, just hold on—” 

She faded before he could finish, the world going dark around her.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

 

 

_The stars were especially bright in this sector of the universe._

_Pidge stared out through an observation window in the crow’s nest, knees pulled tight to her chest. On the bridge below, she could hear muffled conversations between the other paladins filtering up through the open hatch, but she tuned the noise out._

_Team Voltron was finally back together after an exhausting week of non-stop searching. Part of her wanted to hide away in her room and sleep, but restless energy buzzed beneath her skin, like her brain hadn’t quite caught up to the mission’s success. She stared up at the strange pattern of stars, trying to calm the gnawing worry that still lingered._

_“Hey, I thought I’d find you up here,” Hunk said, climbing through the hatch and carrying a plate with him. “Are you hungry? I was so happy to see the kitchen again, I went on a stress-baking spree.”_

_“What’d you make?” Pidge squinted at the tray as he sat down next to her. The food looked a bit like bright blue doughnut holes glazed with orange syrup._

_“I was going for doughnuts, but I think they’re more like macarons,” Hunk said._

_Pidge took a tentative bite of one, blinking in surprise at the spicy-sweet burst of flavor. The dough melted away like cotton candy in her mouth. “Pretty good,” she reviewed, managing a smile._

_“It’s a thank you,” Hunk said, looking up at the stars. His cheeks were still pink from the heat of the kitchen. “For finding me and Lance. And everyone else, actually. Did you really make a whole satellite from garbage?”_

_“Well, I didn’t have anything else to work with,” Pidge replied, shrugging._

_“That’s super cool,” Hunk replied. He glanced down at her, an easy smile gracing his lips. “And I figured we’d get off that ocean planet eventually, but it’s nice to know that you were looking out for us. Like, if I’m gonna be fighting an alien war with flying robot lions, at least I get to do it with my friends, right?”_

_Pidge grinned at him, her nervous energy settling down in his presence. She could hear the others on the bridge, voices familiar and comforting, and admitted to Hunk, “I’ve never really had a group of friends before.”_

_“Well, now you’re stuck with us,” Hunk replied. “No takebacks.”_

_“I guess I’m good with that,” Pidge said, enjoying the way his decisive statement warmed her heart. She took another treat from the tray and gestured with it. “But just so you know, you’re setting a dangerous precedent here. I fully expect cookies every time I rescue you from now on.”_

_“Deal,” Hunk replied._

  

* * *

  

Pidge opened her eyes to see a forest of green. 

She nearly panicked, flashes of the humid jungle flickering through her mind, but that fear was quickly dismissed. The air was calm and crisp, not muggy, and as Pidge looked around, she easily recognized the variety of plants around her. 

It looked like… _Earth_? 

The forest seemed endless, sprawling for miles in every direction. Pidge sat up, staring up at the tall oak trees surrounding her. They had thick trunks and intertwined branches that looked like a disjointed jungle gym of mossy bark. The view was so familiar that Pidge remembered walking hand-in-hand with Matt, crunching through autumn leaves and staring up at the thinning branches, thinking that if she was a monkey, she could just leap up and swing and swing forever. 

_It’s like the forest from home_ , Pidge thought. In fact, it looked almost _exactly_ like the forest from home. But as she stared, Pidge realized that she couldn’t see any power lines jutting out in the distance. Nor could she see the yellow markers that Mr. O’Malley put up to line his property or hear the sound of cars echoing from the highway nearby. It looked like a snapshot of a forest stripped of civilization. 

Even stranger was the fact that she was able to breathe normally. Pidge had never been able to walk in the forest from home without a tickle in her nose or itching in her eyes as her allergies bested even the strongest of medications. 

_It’s a copy,_ she thought, feeling more confident in her guess the more she looked around. She looked down at herself, noting that she was still dressed in her mangled paladin armor, chest plate and helmet missing, but her arm was no longer bound against her chest. She flexed her arm out, marveling at the lack of pain. She couldn’t even feel a twinge in her wrist anymore. 

In fact, she didn’t feel much of anything.

_Wasn’t I hurt?_  

Pidge frowned, climbing to her feet and looking closer at the area immediately surrounding her. She was at the edge of a meadow lined with wildflowers, staring at a smooth plane of tall grass that stretched the length of a gymnasium beneath open blue skies. 

There was a pit of black sludge in the center of the meadow, bubbling like hot tar. 

She stared at the site in confusion, moving toward the pit before she could consider her actions. Even from a distance, she could see putrid fumes radiating from its center, casting green-tinged waves of heat up into the sky. The grass surrounding the pit was twisted and brown, slowly growing black with rot. 

Pidge stopped ten feet from the edge of the pit and stared at the ground. Thin veins of black crept through the dirt, spreading like roots in every direction. Disgust twisted in her stomach the closer she stood, the heavy feeling of death settling deep in her bones. 

Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet shuddered. 

Pidge stumbled back, falling to her rear and barely managing to catch herself on her arms. As she looked up, the meadow seemed to tilt like it was curling up at its edges, all sides angling down toward the pit. 

Her eyes went wide as she began to slide, slow and inescapable, toward the bubbling mass. Terror in her heart, Pidge dug her heels into the soft dirt, muttering, “No, no, _nonono_ —” with increasing desperation. 

Nearly as soon as it began, the slide stopped.

A heavy weight dropped around her waist, holding her steady against the ground and pulling her back into a warm embrace. The world slowly began to right itself. 

Pidge blinked in surprise, looking up to see a mass of green fur around her. 

She knew without thinking that it was the Green Lion, but she was still startled by what she saw. The Green Lion was easily five times bigger than she was, holding Pidge securely by her front paw like a newborn kitten pressed against its mother. She looked like a lion, but her features were hazy and shifting as if a mirage, like her image was nothing more than an illusion Pidge had crafted. 

She felt simultaneously real and unreal, her presence solid and unavoidable even as the lines of her form blurred. 

Despite the strange effect, Pidge couldn’t stop the relief flooding her as she clung to Green’s huge paw.

“Green?” she asked, staring up at Green with wide eyes. “Where are we?” 

Green looked down at her, eyes as dark and unfathomable as space itself. 

A wave of comfort rushed through her, like waking from a nightmare to her mother’s embrace, all the horrors of the night brushed away by loving whispers and a warm hand rubbing on her back. Pidge relaxed against Green’s grasp without thinking, feeling Green’s response so deep in her heart that she could nearly hear it whispered in her ears. 

_Safe_. 

It didn’t really answer the question, but Pidge hadn’t expected a clear answer. As far as she could tell, the Lions weren’t really able to communicate that way. _Safe_ was good enough. She could accept that. 

Pidge stared at the dark pit before her, more curious than scared now that Green was supporting her. 

“What is that?” she asked. 

Green growled behind her, a fleeting flash of _wrong_ brushing through her mind, and Pidge frowned at the vagueness of the answer. She thought back to her last memories, cradled in Hunk’s arms and shivering as pain throbbed in her shoulder, heat pulsing through her veins— 

“Oh,” Pidge murmured, staring at the rotting pit with growing understanding. “It’s the infection. It’s spreading.” 

Green didn’t respond, though Pidge wasn’t sure if she didn’t understand the conclusion or just didn’t see fit to comment on it. Her paw tightened around Pidge’s waist, pulling her more firmly into her warm embrace, and Pidge let herself sink deeper into her soft fur. 

She looked away from the black pit, staring up at clear blue skies through the oak trees’ winding branches. She could nearly ignore the darkness, pressed against Green’s fur and listening to the sounds of nature around her. It almost felt like she was home again. 

After a long moment, Pidge asked, “Green? Am I dying?” 

Green growled. She felt the rumble of it against her back. 

_Safe_ , came the same feeling from before. 

Pidge closed her eyes, accepting the assurance without another thought. 

_Safe_.

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in the meadow. Time didn’t feel real. She faded in and out of awareness, pressed into Green’s warm embrace and watching leaves rustle on the trees overhead. It was quiet. 

The pit stopped growing. Its roots retreated from the grass at her feet, shrinking back from the healthy green and escaping back to the pool of black sludge. Every time Pidge checked, the pit grew smaller, but she stayed in Green’s hold rather than investigate. 

The next time Pidge awoke, the pit was half the size it had been, but that wasn’t what drew her attention. 

Hunk was sitting beside her, arms propped on his knees. 

“Hunk?” Pidge asked, startled. 

“Pidge?” Hunk replied, looking equally surprised. 

He was wearing the familiar all-white outfit used in the cryopods. Pidge could see a faint golden outline in the skies around him, as indistinct as a rainbow. If she squinted, it looked like a massive lion was curled around Hunk, dwarfing even the Green Lion in size. Unlike Green, this lion appeared male, with a bountiful golden mane adding bulk to its already impressive size. 

“Is that the Yellow Lion?” Pidge asked. She reached out a hand to touch the golden mane, but her fingers brushed through empty air. “Wait, he’s not real—” 

“He feels real to me,” Hunk said, shrugging. He reached behind Pidge and tried to touch Green, with the same result. “I guess it’s a Lion thing.” 

“What about you?” Pidge asked. Unlike with the Yellow Lion, she was able to press a hand against Hunk’s shoulder like normal, but was startled by a flash of cold and drew her hand back with a wince. “You feel like ice! Why are you so cold?” 

“I’m in the cryopod, I think,” replied Hunk, furrowing his brow. “It doesn’t feel cold to me, but you feel weirdly warm, so that must be it.” 

“Aren’t I in a cryopod?” Pidge asked, frowning. 

Hunk shook his head. “Coran said you couldn’t go in a pod because of the infection. I remember that much before they made me go in. Everyone was freaking out.” 

“Was it that bad?” She couldn’t remember anything after the other paladins showed up in the cave, but the memory of floating in the darkness was enough to twist her stomach. 

“They had to put you in a medical coma,” Hunk replied, his worried expression giving Pidge her answer. “It was… the infection was really aggressive, apparently.” 

He didn’t look at Pidge as he spoke, eyes dark with memories, and Pidge reached for his hand. His fingers were like ice beneath her palm. 

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m okay,” she assured him. Hunk glanced up at her, concern still clear on his face, and she continued, “I think the infection’s going away. See?” 

She gestured to the pit, but it had vanished. So had the forest. A barren black plane replaced it, leaving Hunk and Pidge as the only features in an expanse of nothingness. 

Pidge stared down at her arm, which glowed faintly green and contrasted with the golden hues emanating from Hunk. 

“See what?” Hunk asked, confusion washing away the worry in his eyes. 

Pidge frowned but eventually replied, “Never mind. It was—I was in a forest. With Green. But now—” 

“It’s gone, right?” Hunk interjected. “Yeah, Yellow and I were in the mountains before he brought me here. I have no idea how this works, but I think it has something to do with whatever we did on that planet to connect to our Lions.” 

“I guess you were right,” Pidge said, staring up at Green in fascination. Her Lion ignored her in favor of watching the Yellow Lion, ears perked and tail twitching like she wanted to play. “They really did find us.” 

“Not fast enough,” said Hunk, apprehension coloring his tone yet again. 

“We made it, Hunk,” Pidge said, squeezing his hand in hers. “We’re going to be fine. You’re in the cryo-pod and I’m getting better, really—” 

“You don’t know that,” Hunk interrupted, not meeting her eyes. “You—it was bad, okay? Like, _sepsis_ bad. By the time we got you to the Castle, you’d gone into shock and were barely breathing, and no one knew how to treat it because none of us have any real medical training, and Coran didn’t know if humans would react well to Altean antibiotics and—” 

“ _Hunk_ ,” Pidge interjected, pulling out of Green’s hold to kneel at his side. She gripped his hand with both of hers. “Look at me. I’m right here. Green protected me. I’m going to be _fine_.” 

“You don’t _know_ that—” Hunk repeated, looking pained, but Pidge cut him off before he could continue.

“You’re right, I don’t,” she said, frustration creeping into her voice, “Maybe I won’t get better, who knows? But worrying isn’t going to change that. You did everything you could to help me. If I do get better, it’ll be because you took care of me.” 

Before she could lose her nerve, Pidge moved forward and brushed a kiss on his cheek, feeling fond and stupid in tandem. She sat back on her heels with Hunk’s hand still clenched in hers. In a low voice, Pidge said, “Thank you.” 

Hunk finally met her eyes. A series of expressions flashed so quickly on his face that Pidge couldn’t identify them. Finally, he seemed to settle on a fond look, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “Did you just kiss me?” 

Not expecting the question, Pidge blinked. Slowly, she replied, “…yes?” 

“Kind of a shitty first kiss.” 

“Hey!” Pidge said, even as she recognized her words being thrown back at her. “I was trying to be supportive.” 

“A for effort,” Hunk replied, though his attempt at a solemn nod was ruined when he had to stifle a laugh. 

Pidge made a face at him. Then, recalling the hazy moment in the cave, she joked, “Well, how about I get better and we try again, does that sound good?” 

Hunk laughed outright, shattering the remaining tension in the air. 

“Yeah,” he said, grinning broadly at her. “I think we can work with that.” 

Pidge didn’t know how long their connection lasted, sitting side-by-side in the darkness and talking about nothing in particular, but she kept his hand clasped in hers until she suddenly found herself back in the meadow alone, resting against Green and staring at a slowly shrinking pit.

 

* * *

 

She opened her eyes in a dark room, the sound of machines whirring quietly around her. A steady beeping sound echoed by her head. 

Pidge blinked a few times, staring at the white ceiling overhead and feeling like she had just emerged from underwater. The world around her felt too crisp to be real, like she was finally seeing clearly after a lifetime of blurred vision. 

Her eyes slid to the side as she reoriented herself, recognizing the familiar medical ward on the Castle without fully understanding how she got there. Before she could puzzle over it further, her gaze caught on a tousled head of sandy hair slumped on the bed by her side. 

Matt sat at her bedside, leaning on the mattress with his head tucked into the crease of his elbow. His other hand was clasped tightly with hers, fingers intertwined on the soft blanket. 

“…Matt?” Pidge asked, the words escaping before she could reconsider waking him. Her voice sounded scratchy. It felt like it had been a lifetime since she saw him, like she was back in that hidden outpost staring up at him once again. 

He jerked awake too quickly for a deep sleep and stared up at her. The dim light of the room only highlighted the bags under his eyes, giving his face a ghostly cast. Despite his exhausted air, his expression echoed with relief as he said, “Pidge? You’re awake?” 

“I think so?” Pidge replied, managing a faint smile to match his. 

“Oh, thank god,” Matt breathed, gripping her hand even tighter. He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead, a gesture so reminiscent of their father that Pidge couldn’t stop the pang of homesickness that echoed in her heart. “You’ve been out for nearly a week—I was so worried, even after Coran said the meds were working. How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Pidge answered honestly, still marveling at the lack of dizziness and pain around her. She glanced to her other side and was mildly disappointed to see white bandages wrapped around her shoulder. Still, even when she tried to move it, the dull ache that responded was leagues better than the awful throbbing pain from before. “It barely hurts at all anymore.” 

“Well, you’re still on pain meds,” Matt said, gesturing to an I.V. near the head of the bed. She caught a fleeting pinch of worry on his forehead, but it vanished as he met her eyes. Matt continued, “Coran said your shoulder will probably scar. You’ll need to go in the cryopod for a bit to help it along, but they didn’t want to do anything until you woke up, so it’s had some time to heal.” 

Pidge frowned at the thought of more recovery. Slowly, she repeated, “I’ve been asleep for a week?” 

“Yeah,” Matt said. 

“Is Hunk okay?” Pidge asked. Their shared dream felt like a distant memory, just hazy enough for her to doubt its authenticity. 

“He got out of the pod a few days ago,” Matt answered. He held her good hand in both of his, anxiously rubbing the back of her palm like he needed to reaffirm her existence. “He’s fine, though he’s been worried about you. Everyone has, really. You—” 

Matt cut himself off, voice catching in a way Pidge hadn’t heard since he was much younger and still growing into adulthood. He glanced away, hands tight around hers, and finally continued, “You scared me, Pidge. It was really touch and go for a while there.” 

“Sorry,” Pidge replied. She tried to give him a comforting smile, but he stared down at the sheets, still caught in memory. “Next time I’ll ask the alien kitty to play nice.” 

Her grim attempt at humor made Matt stifle a laugh and give her a reproachful stare. “Hopefully there won’t _be_ a next time.” 

“I’m just getting you back for that time you disappeared for two years,” Pidge said, smirking. “It’s your turn to worry.” 

“That’s mean, Pidge,” Matt replied, shaking his head. “Worst sister ever.” 

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” she countered. 

At this, Matt stared at her dead-on, his eyes fond and sincere. “Wouldn’t trade you for the world, sis.” She met his gaze, warmed by the love in his tone, and smiled broadly at him. 

Then, as if to add some levity, Matt said, “In fact, I might not let you out of my sight for at least a month.” 

“Good luck with that,” Pidge said. She laughed at his put-upon expression, allowing, “Though it’ll be nice to have a bit of a break after that god-awful rainforest.” 

“Based on what Hunk said, you held your own out there,” Matt said. 

As if on cue, the memory of her time in the rainforest struck her hard and fast, leaving Pidge feeling like she’d been hit in the gut. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to avoid it this long. Blood flashed across her vision and screams echoed in her ears, each recollection a vivid assault on her mind. She clenched her eyes shut, wincing away from the memories. 

“Pidge?” Matt prompted, sounding concerned. 

She couldn’t look at him, though she opened her eyes. Quietly, she asked, “What did Hunk say? About what happened?” 

“He said you guys broke out of the ship and crash landed on the planet where we found you,” Matt replied slowly. “And he said you fought the bounty hunters off after they captured him again, but he didn’t know the details.” 

“That’s all true,” Pidge confirmed, still avoiding his gaze. She stared at the blanket, focusing on its dark blue weave to keep the image of blood from flooding her vision. 

“Did something else happen?” Matt asked. He leaned forward, gripping her good shoulder with one hand. “Katie, look at me. Are you okay?”

With great effort, Pidge forced herself to look up. Matt met her eyes, all humor gone from his face in favor of protective concern, and he asked, “What happened?” 

“I…,” Pidge began, hating the way her voice cracked. She couldn’t bring herself to finish her statement. 

Rationally, it didn’t make any sense for this to be affecting her so badly. She’d killed people before, both in the Green Lion and out. In fact, it had been nearly a year since the first time it happened. Pidge could still remember sitting on her bed, knees curled up to her chest and shaking as the memory of Haxus falling backward off the catwalk replayed itself over and over in her mind. She’d cried for nearly a week about that, hating the way his death tore at her heart—he would have killed her without question, no doubt in her mind about it, and she hadn’t even been the one to push him. Rover had done it to protect her. But the sound of his falling scream wouldn’t leave her ears.

Since then, she’d killed plenty of enemies. She still had pangs of regret every time, but the tears came much more rarely. She had thought she was past it, like the innocent Pidge from before had vanished forever in the haze of war, replaced by a stronger, more experienced fighter.

And yet, the memory of fighting the bounty hunters sent all the pain crashing back. She remembered the crunch of Zzipteh’s bones and the gurgling sound of Veera’s screams. Unlao’s dead eyes eternally stared at her, blood and guts spread across the muddy bank as monsters tore at his body. 

Pidge wanted to tell Matt about it—about the death and the screams and the way they tore at her heart—but she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t form in her throat. The memories coiled together in her gut, feeling like the entire mess would unravel if she loosened even the smallest piece, and she dreaded the idea of falling apart so soon after she’d been pieced back together. Her entire body felt weary. 

Finally, Pidge managed to say, “It was just… scary. I just—I’m glad we made it back. I’m really exhausted.” 

It wasn’t a lie, even if it felt like one. 

From Matt’s expression, he wasn’t fooled in the slightest by her cop-out. He pursed his lips like he wanted to argue, but instead he sighed and met her eyes with a soft gaze. 

“Why don’t you get some more sleep?” he suggested, gripping her shoulder once more before pulling his hand back. “I’ll be right here, so you don’t need to worry.” 

“You should sleep, too—” Pidge started. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matt cut her off, his tone allowing no debate. He smiled down at her. “Get some rest, Pidge. We can talk more in the morning, okay?” 

Pidge let his smile warm her heart, trying to ward off the memories with the knowledge that her brother was there to watch out for her. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Matt’s hands around hers. 

The memories waited, but sleep beckoned quickly, pulling her back to the safety of the darkness once again.

 

* * *

 

It took another week before Pidge was allowed out of the medical bay. 

She spent a couple days after that first night in a half-asleep daze, waking for short bursts before slipping again to the comforting dark of drugged sleep. Her bedside was never empty. Usually Matt took the nearest seat, but on the rare occasions he was absent, the other paladins were there to fill it, full of warmth and heartfelt joy that she was healing. 

They all had a lot of questions at first, but Pidge was less than forthcoming about providing answers. She couldn’t explain what had happened with Green any more than Hunk could with Yellow, though even their vague guesses made Allura furrow her brow and mumble something about reading old paladin journals for clues. 

Lance was beyond himself with excitement, clearly enjoying the idea that he could achieve an even deeper connection to his Lion, but stopped short when confronted with the reality of sharing both the Blue and Red Lions. 

“Wait,” Lance said once he realized this. “Wait, wait, wait. Does that mean I could get fire _and_ water powers? How does that even work?” 

“No, of course not,” Keith said. He had chosen to spend the last day before his next Blade mission hanging out by Pidge’s bedside, which she would have found sweeter if he didn’t keep letting Lance bait him into arguments. “That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“I _know_ , that’s my point!” Lance said. “Would the Blue Lion and the Red Lion just cancel each other out?” 

“I don’t even know what element the Black Lion would be,” Shiro mused. He glanced over at Keith. “Air, maybe? He doesn’t really have an obvious one.” 

“He does have wings,” Keith offered, shrugging. 

“I think the Lions know how to work together better than that,” Allura answered Lance, looking equally perplexed. “Though I do think this is the first time we’ve seen quite _this_ level of connection. Perhaps the Lions were reacting to the danger you both were in—we’ve seen them act independently before, so this could just be another extension of that—” 

Despite her own curiosity about the nature of the Lion connection, Pidge let the debate continue around her without much input. Her contributions were limited to answering questions, but even those responses were subdued. 

She knew the others were concerned. She’d seen the looks they exchanged when they thought she wasn’t watching, and more than once someone—usually Matt—suggested a change of topic when they felt like she was getting uncomfortable. As she slowly regained strength, the topic of the Lions and her experience with Green was mentioned less and less, though Pidge could still feel the others staring at her with worry when she was silent for too long. 

No one mentioned it directly. Pidge was pretty sure that was Matt’s doing, trying to give her room to heal, and she was grateful for the distance. As time went on, the memories felt less fresh, scabbing over like wounds, and she longed to bury them completely. The meds were helping to keep them from her dreams, but they wouldn’t be there forever. 

The only person to confront her about it directly was Hunk, though he waited until he was the only one in the room, holding down the fort for a brief ten minutes while Matt went to get food. 

“How’re you holding up?” Hunk asked. His voice was heavy with the words he didn’t say, watching her closely. 

Pidge didn’t respond for a bit, staring at her hands. She couldn’t just deflect, not with Hunk, not after they’d survived that whole ordeal together. Instead, she just asked, “How much did you tell them?” 

“What I knew,” Hunk replied. “They know you killed three of the bounty hunters and that’s how we escaped. Are you worried they’re going to think badly of you, Pidge? Because no one does. We never would, not when you did it to rescue me. You have to know that.” 

“I know,” Pidge replied. Even talking this much was making memories rumble uncomfortably in her mind, and she clenched her jaw as she fought back against them. “I know that. I just—I don’t want to talk about it. It still feels too… too—” 

“Big?” Hunk guessed. 

Pidge finally looked over at him. He stared back at her, eyes dark and knowing, and she gave a small nod. That was part of it, at least. 

“It’s hard to think about my time bonding with the Yellow Lion,” Hunk said. “Because I was so scared, and he was just—overwhelming. It was amazing, but every time I think about it, I also have to think about fighting off those cat monsters and watching you bleed out and feeling absolutely helpless. And all I did was find a cave. You did a lot more than that.” 

He paused, watching for a reaction, and Pidge eventually admitted, “I’m not ready to talk about it. I know everyone’s worried, but I just—” 

“You don’t have to,” Hunk murmured when she cut herself off, staring back down at her hands. He reached out to grab her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and continued, “Like Matt said, just focus on getting better. You’re going in the pod tonight, right? We’ll talk when you get out.” 

She smiled at him, even though it felt forced. The memories coiled ominously in the back of her mind, feeling like they were still prepping to overwhelm her, but she held out hope that the pod would help heal more than just her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, when she emerged from the cryo-pod two days later, Hunk and most of the other paladins were gone. 

“What do you mean, a rescue mission?” she asked Coran as he examined her shoulder for any lingering muscle damage. 

“An emergency came up in the Zathrii quadrant,” Coran explained. “One of our allied planets needed reinforcements and help moving cargo. Lance stayed behind in case something else comes up, but the others were all needed there.” 

“Wait, _Lance_ stayed behind? But Hunk just got out of the pod—” 

“That’s what Lance said, too,” Matt interjected from his position by the door. 

“They needed the Yellow Lion to haul supplies,” Coran said, with the air of someone who has had to repeat the same sentiments before. “He’s the biggest Lion next to Black, and Red isn’t going to be as much help—” 

“Yeah, but that hasn’t stopped Lance from pouting on the bridge for the past day,” Matt said, grinning over at Pidge. 

She managed a return smile but couldn’t help the warring feelings in her heart. She was worried about Hunk—about all of them, really, but it felt strangely terrifying to think of Hunk not being there after their time in the forest, like she needed to see him to know that he was safe. She could still remember huddling beneath the foliage of the rainforest, desperate and guilty and scared, and Hunk’s absence only made those memories stronger. 

At the same time, if Hunk had been there, he would want to talk. 

And despite her earlier words, Pidge wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to do it. Not about the deaths of the bounty hunters, not about her experience with Green—hell, even the thought of talking about something as comparatively light as their budding— _relationship?_ —felt like too much to handle. It all whirled together in a mess of conflicting emotions, weighing on her chest until it felt hard to breathe. 

The others left on the ship didn’t try to make her talk. Coran was focused on her recovery while Lance stayed so single-mindedly cheerful around her that Pidge suspected Hunk had tasked him to it. Matt maintained an attentive distance—hovering incessantly but not forcing any real conversations, which was a status quo Pidge was perfectly fine with maintaining. His constant presence was more distracting than anything else, giving Pidge little time to be dragged down into darker thoughts. 

Honestly, the weight of it all was more frustrating than anything else. She missed being able to focus on a task without getting distracted by errant memories. Now that she wasn’t beset by pain meds, Pidge worked on building up defenses in her mind: heavy walls that blocked out the memories of fear and pain until she almost felt stable again. 

At first, the mental blocks seemed to work. For a couple days, Pidge could almost convince herself that she was fine. She was safe and back at the Castle with only the scars cutting across her shoulder to remind her of her time in the rainforest. 

Pidge spent her days editing code and working through some of the physical therapy exercises that Coran suggested. She tried to push for more intense training, wanting to lose herself in the blur of exhaustion, but Coran was adamant against her pushing too hard so soon after her illness. 

It was frustrating, but Pidge bit her tongue. She was fine, even if the memories still sprang up at random times. She had plenty of time to heal. She just needed to focus on her rehabilitation and get back in the paladin mindset. She was fine. 

On the third night, Pidge woke up screaming. 

She stared at the corner of the room, seeing nothing but blood and bodies in her mind. Her breathing was ragged and catching, heart pounding in her chest, and Pidge trembled like a little kid scared of the dark. As she tried to catch her breath, Pidge waited for someone to come swooping down with comforting words, trying to banish the nightmares away. 

No one came. 

Slowly, Pidge realized that the screams were all in her head. 

No one heard them but her. 

She couldn’t stop shaking as fear held her body hostage. She should go get Matt. He might not be able to stop the nightmares, but he could talk to her, comfort her, make her feel safe— 

Even as she considered it, Pidge remembered the dark circles under Matt’s eyes from his nights slumped against her bed. He was finally asleep next door and Pidge hated the idea of forcing him awake for her yet again, especially for something as silly and childish as a nightmare. 

But the images wouldn’t leave. The bounty hunters shrieked in her ears and the Green Lion growled in rapt anticipation, watching as they were torn to shreds. Pidge could still smell the blood. She could practically see it dripping down the walls of her room. 

Before she could stop herself, Pidge scrambled out of the room, clutching her blanket around her shoulders and feeling more like a child than she had in a long time. She stopped by Matt’s door, staring at the smooth plastic and even managing to raise her fist to knock.

She froze with her fist resting against the door, fear locking her throat. What would she even say? How could she possibly explain what it was like, seeing them die so violently in front of her while she just watched and waited? She knew Matt wouldn’t hate her for it, but she’d have to relive it all to explain even the littlest piece— 

She lowered her fist and stepped away from the door. 

Instead, Pidge wandered the dim halls of the Castle, trying to find something that would drive the memories back. Her hands shook under the thin blanket, terror threading through her veins. Every shadow threatened another nightmare. 

Without thinking, she found herself outside the Green Lion, staring up at her gigantic bulk with heavy-lidded eyes. Warmth bloomed in her heart, memories of her time in the meadow overwhelming the lingering nightmares, and Pidge climbed inside her Lion without a second thought. 

The cockpit wasn’t comfortable, but Green’s presence lulled her back to sleep nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

Pidge woke the next morning with a clear head. 

She was curled up in the cockpit of the Green Lion, slumped uncomfortably on top of the armrest. Her neck complained when she straightened, but it was more sore than painful. The ache began to fade as soon as she started moving. 

The memory of the nightmare still lingered, but it felt distant and diffused in the warmth of the Green Lion.

_She’s still protecting me_ , Pidge thought. She felt oddly numb as she climbed to her feet. The Green Lion’s presence surrounded her. Pidge could sense it more clearly than she ever had, like Green was hovering just out of reach, waiting to be called upon. The thought sparked her curiosity for the first time in days, re-engaging the part of her brain that kept asking, _how do the Lions actually work?_  

She tried to reach out with her mind as though extending a hand to caress the Green Lion’s head, feeling soft fur beneath her palm— 

Her stomach rumbled, interrupting her brief exploration, and Pidge blinked as she was brought back to the present. The Green Lion didn’t fade, exactly, but Pidge could sense her drawing back from Pidge’s mind. 

“Okay, I should probably eat something,” Pidge murmured, rubbing lingering soreness out of her neck. “I’ll be back later, Green.” 

She climbed out from the Green Lion, moving carefully to avoid straining her shoulder too much. The cryo-pod had healed the wound as much as it could, but the scars still pulled uncomfortably when she moved too quickly. Shiro had assured her that it would get better, but the memories of her painful injury made her nervous about using it. 

As she dropped to the floor, a new voice suddenly called out, “Your brother is freaking out, you know.” 

Pidge whirled around, startled, and saw Lance sitting by the hangar doors. He was giving her a reproachful look. 

“Don’t _do_ that, Lance!” Pidge snapped, heart pounding in her chest. 

“Do what? I’m just sitting here—” 

“You scared me and you know it,” she accused, narrowing her eyes. He just raised his eyebrows, not looking the least bit sorry, and she frowned at him. “Why are you down here?” 

“Like I said, Matt was worried,” Lance replied. He held her cell phone in his hands as though he’d just been playing with it, but his gaze remained locked on her. “You should probably tell people when you’re going to disappear like that. Dunno if you remember, but we had this whole kidnapping thing happen pretty recently. Kind of freaked everyone out.” 

Pidge shot him a sour stare. “It’s not like I left the Castle—” 

“I never said it was rational,” he countered, shrugging. “But come on, Pidge. You know what it’s like to worry about people going missing like that. Can you blame Matt for freaking out?” 

The pointed statement struck Pidge like a knife, shutting down any defensive responses she had planned. She sighed, shoulders sagging, and made her way over to him. “How’d you know I was here?” 

“I’m just that good,” Lance replied, shooting her a wink. At Pidge’s deadpan stare, he laughed and corrected, “Okay, technically, the Red Lion told me. But I had a hunch you were down here. She just confirmed it.” 

“You guessed I was down here?” 

“You think you’re the first person to go hide in your Lion?” Lance asked. “ _Please_ , Gunderson.” 

Pidge sat down next to him, considering his words. “Good point.” 

“So, what’s got you down?” he asked, giving her a sidelong look. Before Pidge could respond, he added, “I mean, I assume it’s probably related to that whole kidnapping and forest-of-death thing, but you never know.” 

Pidge felt a grin twitch at her lips, amused by his flippant tone, and she said, “It’s nothing. I just—didn’t feel comfortable in my room. Figured I’d work on Green for a while.” 

“Hm,” Lance replied, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah, I’m gonna call bullshit on that.”

Pidge frowned. “What? That’s my _reason_ , you can’t just call bullshit.” 

“Too late, already did,” Lance said. Pidge gave him an annoyed glare, but he waved it off, saying, “C’mon, Pidge, let’s be honest for like, two seconds here. You’ve been messed up since we rescued you. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re really upset about something. And if I can tell, you better believe Matt can. What’s really going on?” 

He met her eyes with a no-nonsense stare, all usual hints of good humor gone from his expression. She considered her options for deflecting, feeling no more inclined to share than she had the previous few days. Her appetite had vanished at the very idea of talking about her experience, stomach clenching in anxiety, but Lance wasn’t the type to back down from confrontation. 

Before she could choose a response, Lance prompted, “Was it a nightmare?” 

Her reply stopped in her throat. 

Lance eyed her for a moment longer before giving a sharp nod, apparently reading more from her expression than she intended. “I figured it was something like that. Hunk was having them, too.” 

Pidge blinked. Quietly, she asked, “He was?” 

“Yeah, they didn’t sound fun,” Lance murmured, looking away for the first time and picking at a loose thread on his jeans. For a few seconds, Pidge hoped he was going to let the matter drop, but then he asked the question she’d been dreading: “What was it about?” 

She looked away, pulling her knees up her to chest and wrapping her arms around them. She felt her defenses begin to rise again, fighting back against the threatening flood of memories, and replied, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Was it about those bounty hunters you killed?” 

Pidge looked sharply at him. 

He watched her with a neutral expression. She could feel panic building in her chest, waiting for a string of invasive guesses, and felt like she was swaying on the precipice of collapse. Pidge knew it wouldn’t take much for Lance to make her break down, just a handful of pointed questions. She didn’t know if she could recover from that. Her hands shook at the very idea. 

But then Lance looked away. His next words weren’t anything she would have guessed. 

“The first time I killed someone out here, it really messed me up,” Lance admitted. His voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear him. “I think I slept in Blue for three nights before Hunk found out and forced me to talk. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Because it was only like, a month after we’d gotten out here? And all I could think was, a month ago my biggest worry was beating that stupid simulator, y’know? But suddenly I was sitting there with the fate of the universe on my shoulders, responsible for the deaths of a bunch of people. And it was just like, I haven’t even graduated _high school_ yet, but I’ve already killed people.” 

Lance finally looked back at her, gaze heavy.

Pidge stared, responses warring in her mind, but in the end, she could only say, “This wasn’t the first time I’ve killed someone.” 

“I know,” Lance replied. 

“It wasn’t even the first time I’ve killed someone outside the Green Lion,” she added for emphasis, though she hated how the memories twisted in her gut. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to clarify that, but she just needed to make sure Lance _understood_ , to make sure he really got it. 

“I know,” Lance repeated. At Pidge’s surprised glance, he said, “Shiro told me you took out that Galra soldier way back at the start of all this, when I was unconscious. And fuck knows we’ve been on a thousand missions since then. I’d be surprised if you _hadn’t_ killed anyone yet. Which is messed up on a whole different level, but if Shiro is any indication, we’re all probably going to need massive amounts of therapy after this is all over, so, y’know. Par for the course.” 

Pidge managed a small grin at his dark humor, staring down at her hands.

They sat in silence for a long moment before Lance prodded, “So what made this time worse?” 

Pidge glanced over at him, still fighting against her desire to keep the memories locked down, and Lance pushed, “Look, man, it never helps to bury it. Trust me. You don’t have to tell me everything, but you need to tell _someone_ , and I’m willing to listen. Safe space, right? Isn’t that what all those online training courses at the garrison were about? What were the topics again? Don’t set stuff on fire, don’t do drugs, and talk about your military-approved feelings? Something like that?” 

She snorted a laugh, tucking her face into her arms as she remembered going through all those training courses during one long, frustrating weekend. She had sat with Hunk and Lance for hours, fueled by sugar and spite as they trudged through mandatory training on everything from military history to holiday safety. By the end of the weekend, Lance had given up taking anything seriously and spent every slide coming up with new interpretations of the material, making it much more difficult to answer the final questions with any sort of accuracy. 

Pidge had nearly forgotten about that, but now the memory made her shoulders shake with laughter. She grinned over at him, saying, “I’m surprised you remember _any_ of that. We barely passed.” 

“But we _did_ pass.” 

“80 percent is hardly something to brag about,” Pidge countered.

“Not my fault the garrison standards were low,” Lance joked, winking at her. Then, poking her in the shoulder, he continued, “But my point is, I am clearly very well-trained in creating a safe space. I have an online certificate and everything. So, lay it on me, Pidge.” 

In the end, Pidge wasn’t sure what made her willing to open up. Maybe it was Lance’s direct approach or the good humor that eased her nerves, or even just the memory of an easier time before any of them had ever heard of Voltron. But she felt strengthened by the steady way Lance met her gaze, understanding clear in his eyes, and thought, _now or never_. 

She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the dark, and began to speak.

 

* * *

 

Telling Lance about her nightmare didn’t block the memories from her head, nor did it really make her feel better. By the end of their conversation, Pidge felt more drained than anything else. But it was like trying to carry too many things up a steep staircase only to have someone step in and take half the load. She might still be carrying a heavy weight, but it seemed more bearable after letting Lance help. 

Talking to Matt that afternoon halved the load again, leaving Pidge feeling weary but lighter than she had in days. 

When she woke from another nightmare later that evening, she only hesitated a few moments before walking to Matt’s door. She could see the questions in his eyes when he let her in, but he held his tongue. She had promised to tell him when she had nightmares if he promised not to make her explain them. 

Instead, they put on a cheesy old television show from Pidge’s hard drive. The bright colors and familiar voices pushed the memories from her mind, letting her drift back to sleep, curled next to her brother under warm blankets. 

The next couple days passed in much the same way, and slowly, Pidge began to feel a difference. Her memories were no longer as visceral as before, fading normally rather than being constantly behind her eyes. The nightmares were still hard, but she was recovering from them faster now. 

By the time the rest of the paladins returned from their rescue mission, Pidge almost felt like herself again. 

She’d been working all morning while the others recovered from their long and eventful mission. They’d arrived late the night before, with debriefs lasting until the early hours of the morning before they finally wrapped things up. Pidge had stayed awake with the rest of them, but restless energy had pulled her from her bed far earlier than anyone else.

Unlike the nightmares, the sound of Green’s roar in her ears filled her with calm. She’d only paused a moment to write Matt a note before scampering down to her Lion, itching to discover more about her inner workings. 

Her stronger bond with Green was still new and nebulous, but it fascinated her as easily as Altean technology often did. The day before, she had realized that she could sense strains and damages on the Green Lion simply by closing her eyes and meditating. She spent the morning repairing minor mechanical issues that she had never noticed before, finding each one through nothing more than their shared bond. 

The work was as challenging as it was filthy. By mid-morning Pidge was starving, her clothes covered in grease and satisfaction sinking deep in her bones. 

It took great effort to pull away from her bond with Green, making Pidge still feel half-immersed in her Lion’s power even as she stepped away from the hanger. She wasn’t sure what to make of the strengthened connection, but her body didn’t yet have the same endurance as her mind. 

She planned to just snag a pack of food goo, not expecting anyone else to be up yet, but the sound of cursing inside the kitchen stopped her in her tracks. 

“—oh, come on, not _this_ quiznack again!” 

Slowly, Pidge poked her head in the door, intrigued by the sound of Hunk’s frustration. 

She wrinkled her nose at the vaguely burnt smell emanating from the ovens at the far side of the room. Hunk was bent over a steaming tray, poking dejectedly at what resembled a collection of melted pancakes. A few other baking trays littered the table around him. They were all covered with small discs of dough, though their contents ranged from curdled mounds to blackened bricks. 

“Um, are you all right?” Pidge asked, staring at the scene with wide eyes. 

Hunk jerked up, clearly not expecting company, and accidentally knocked one of the trays to the ground. Thin golden discs sprayed across the floor. 

Bending over, Pidge picked one up. It smelled sweet, but the dough looked too waxy to be considered edible. “What are these supposed to be?” 

“Ughhh,” Hunk groaned, running a hand through his hair. His clothes were dusted with flour. “They’re _supposed_ to be cookies, but none of these recipes are working with the ingredients I got, so they’re all just turning out terrible.” 

“I thought you had a couple cookie recipes that worked with the stuff we get on Olkarion,” Pidge said, bending down to help Hunk collect the scattered cookie failures. 

He sighed, sitting on his knees and collecting the bits of baked dough on his apron. “Yeah, I _do_ , but I… I wanted to try something else instead. The aliens we helped rescue had a plant that tasted just like peanuts, so I thought I’d see if I could make them into cookies, but every attempt has been a complete disaster so far.” 

Pidge sniffed one of the discarded attempts, trying to see if she could catch any scent of peanuts, but she couldn’t smell anything but burnt sugar. Dropping the cookie into Hunk’s makeshift apron pouch, Pidge managed a sympathetic smile, saying, “That sucks that it didn’t work out, but it’s okay. I mean, it’s not like this is the first time alien food has been too weird for us to use.” 

“Yeah, I know, I just—” Hunk began, looking as though he’d been caught at something embarrassing. After a moment of hesitation, he met her eyes, a mild flush appearing on his cheeks. “I wanted to make you peanut butter cookies. Y’know, to… to thank you for saving me. Again. That’s the deal, right?” 

Pidge blinked at the disappointed expression on Hunk’s face, taking in the multiple trays of attempted cookies on the table. The counter behind him was covered in flour and sugar and goodness knows what else, turning the entire kitchen into something of a disaster zone. 

“You were making these for me?” Pidge asked, her voice softer than she intended. She stared at him and suddenly remembered the scent of fresh peanut butter cookies, two years past and still as clear in her memory as the moment in front of her now. Her heart and cheeks warmed at the thought. 

“Well, yeah, of _course_ I’m making them for you,” Hunk said, still looking abashed as he gestured to the chaos around him. “But it’s a complete mess, so—” 

Pidge leaned forward and cut him off with a kiss. 

It was awkward and strange and clearly unexpected on Hunk’s part, because he fell back and nearly made Pidge stumble over him. But just as Pidge started to panic and break away, Hunk tilted his head and kissed her back, lips soft against hers. 

It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, leaving Pidge feeling warm and slightly weak in the knees. She pulled back, a hesitant smile on her face, and carefully climbed from her awkward position braced against his thigh. 

Nervously fiddling with her glasses, Pidge asked, “So, was that a better first kiss?” 

The grin on Hunk’s face could have blinded the sun. He sat up on his knees, scattering burnt cookies across the ground, and kissed her again. 

Kissing was weird, but kissing Hunk made Pidge feel more curious than confused, her affection helping her to sail past the uncertainty. He had a hand on her cheek and she had his shirt fisted in her hand, and she was just getting used to the warm closeness of the kiss when— 

“WHAT THE HELL,” a loud voice interrupted. Seconds later, something crashed to the ground, scattering its contents across the floor.

 

 

Pidge jerked back, mirroring Hunk as they both turned to stare in the direction of the voice. 

Lance was staring at them with his mouth agape, bracing himself against the table and not seeming to notice the tray of burnt cookies he’d knocked the ground. Behind him, Matt stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide.

“I—,” Lance began, pointing between the two of them. “You— you both were—” 

Pidge said nothing, eyes darting between Lance and Matt. She could feel herself flushing red and knew without looking that Hunk was the same.

“Huh,” Matt finally said, breaking the shocked silence. “I _was_ right.”

“I can’t believe this,” Lance finally managed, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I don’t know which one of you guys I want to congratulate more.” He held out his hands, eyes alit, and exclaimed, “C’mon, guys! Wingman high-five!” 

They both stared at him in silence. 

“Ohhh, no no no, Hunk, you don’t get to leave me hanging,” Lance said, narrowing his eyes. “Not when I’ve been the third wheel on all your awkward no-I’m-not-flirting-with-her non-dates, oh no. And Pidge, _you_ tricked me into breaking the bro code, so you are _both_ going to give me the wingman-high-five right now, so _help me god_ —” 

Hunk sighed, glancing over at Pidge. She rolled her eyes. As one, they raised their hands to clap against Lance’s. 

“I’m so proud right now, guys,” Lance said warmly, clasping his hands over his heart. He looked back at Matt, who was still watching the scene with mild disbelief. “Aren’t you proud, Matt? Wait, are you planning an over-protective big brother speech? Can I help? I’ll give mine to Pidge.” 

“Maybe later,” Matt replied, grinning. “I’m honestly just happy that I was right and I still know how to read people. Take that, alien captivity!” 

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh at Matt’s bewildered joy and Lance’s ridiculous pride, which seemed to set off a chain reaction for the whole group. At some point in the midst of their laughter, Hunk’s hand found hers, fingers clasping tight, and Pidge couldn’t quell the warmth in her heart as she glanced over at him. 

She didn’t know what she was doing, but Hunk’s hand in hers felt right. 

Pidge figured that was enough to go on for now.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this monster of a story. It's been six months coming and I am so glad that I've finally gotten to post it. Many thanks again to Eli B. for drawing such awesome art (go give them kudos on their [Tumblr](http://eliaesthetics.tumblr.com/)!), and MaliciousWays for being a super fantastic beta. Also thanks to the [2018 Pidge Big Bang](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Pidge_Big_Bang) team for putting together such a great event!
> 
> This fic was brought to you by Animorphs #11: The Forgotten, otherwise known as "the one where the rainforest is trying to KILL THEM" ...I may eventually evolve out of getting story inspiration from various Animorphs books, but clearly not today :P
> 
> If you liked this story, please do me a favor and let me know in the comments! I would love to hear any reviews and reactions you may have, good or bad, since every new story gives me an opportunity to work on my writing. You can also visit me at my [Tumblr](http://panaili.tumblr.com) if you'd like. Thank you all for reading! <3


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